


Brand New Blue

by BrittySauce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 63,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittySauce/pseuds/BrittySauce
Summary: Lance goes to space long before the landing of the Kerberos mission, and after a gruelling time as a fighter in the arena he joins the resistance. Shortly after team Voltron launches to space, Lance stumbles upon the team and suddenly things get dicey for them all.----When Lance McClain, a proud field agent and officer of the Resistance against Zarkon's tyranny, stumbles upon the Altean ship, his entire world is flipped upside down. Suddenly, he's the Empire's Most Wanted, he's unable to rely on the Resistance for help, and now he pilots the giant, magical, robot lion spaceship, appropriately named the Blue Lion. His new team is a handful of humans just like him, and two of the most human looking aliens Lance has encountered so far.Trying to survive, figure out who the spy or traitor in the Resistance is, and solidifying their new bond all at the same time make things hard on the team, and especially on Lance. Things gets worse when enemies of the past come back to haunt Lance and remind him; he's not as strong as he would have people believe he is.





	1. "Champion" Lance Emerges

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is based on the idea that Lance goes to space before Shiro and the Kerberos team (i.e. Matt and Sam Holt). When he gets away from the arena, unlike Shiro, he doesn't return home because of circumstances, and instead joins the Resistance. You all tune in when Voltron and Lance finally meet! Enjoy the ride! Don't be afraid to let me know your thoughts and feelings on this work! I also have it posted on Tumblr!

Lance was once a normal child. 

He had dreams of going to space. Travelling among the stars and planets and the infinite universe. He had planned to join the Galaxy Garrison, a prestigious and sought after school for aspiring space cadets. He wanted to be top of his class, a fighter pilot, adored and loved by all. He wanted to meet his hero, Takashi Shirogane, or Shiro as most people refer to him, and be just like him.

He could remember a time when his biggest worry was passing the entrance exams and getting a crew that he actually liked. In retrospect, it all seemed frivolous now.

Lance never got that chance, the chance to be a fighter pilot with a great crew and meet his hero. Lance never even got to say his last goodbyes. His Familia back home in Cuba must think he dropped off the face of the Earth, abandoning them. Or perhaps they thought him dead. He might as well have been, for as long as he has been gone.

Lance couldn’t even really tell you how long that was himself. He could have been gone for a month, or he could have been gone for a year. Space was weird like that. Especially where he is right now. Time doesn’t exist here. His hands were cuffed in front of him with tech far more advanced than his home planet, the metal cool to the touch, and tight around his wrists.

His ankles were chained in much the same fashion, a strip of what he imagined was purple electricity the only connection between his cuffs. Logically, he should be able to snap the electric band by moving the cuffs beyond its reach, snapping the connection, but they stopped as if the purple electricity was metal chain links. Lance was shoved forward a little by one of the guards behind him. Another logical thing, was that the creatures leading him through dark hall lit by purple light, were just really tall humans. Because there was no such thing as aliens.

Logically. Or at least he himself never believed in the idea. He hoped but he wasn’t one of those fanatics about aliens. But these monsters were no human.

They were seven foot to eight foot tall, covered in either purple skin or purple fur, with eyes that were pupilless and yellow, where the whites should be and all. Most of the creatures had fangs as well, not quite as long as a canine’s, but sharp enough to scare him shitless nonetheless. Some of them had prosthetic limbs, ones that were so advanced it made him cringe.

The reason is, is because they used the limbs as weapons, and some could even detach themselves from the body and still be fully functional. It was dark magic in those limbs, and this was real, because he had been one of the unlucky few equipped with one of these “upgrades” as the witch called them.

Lance wasn’t dumb. 

He knew what the creatures were called, he knew what fuelled the ships to cause such dark purple glow, and he knew what powered these upgrades. Prisoners tend to gossip, especially if they wish to distract themselves desperately. These “creatures” were an evil alien race called the Galra, which ruled over nearly all of the known universe.

The empire was ruled by Zarkon, a nasty and terrifying Galra who has become essentially immortal, having lived as emperor for over ten thousand years. Or _deca-phoebs_ as most of the aliens he encountered called it. Lance prayed he was never caught face to face with the beast Emperor. And that purple glow was from a corrupt form of quintessence, which was basically the life force of the universe.

The closest he could relate the name ‘quintessence’ was to spirit, soul, or nature. Such as person’s ‘nature’. In its natural state, the quintessence was bright, colored a pure yellow and when in close proximity the quintessence practically throbbed with life energy. As if it were a sentient being in and of itself. Lance has only come in close proximity of natural quintessence once in his stay with the horrible Galra, and the stuff- a sort of plasma like state- drew him forwards.

His body had _ached_ to get closer to the stuff, and perhaps that was odd; the looks other prisoners threw at him when he tried to describe the feeling said as much, even if some of them had not the slightest humanoid resemblance.

Another shove forward nearly sent him sprawling to the floor, but he had learned early on never to show weakness. Falling to the floor would have prompted the guards to get angry and ‘discipline’ him. He wished he could show these giant purple space cats just how _disciplined_ he was, preferably with one of those high tech blasters strapped to most of their hips or held in their hands.

Lance grit his teeth as he stepped wrong and a short sharp pain exploded up his ankle, from when he had twisted it but a few days ago. Or _quintants_ , as was the Common measurement of a day was in space. _Guess Earth never got the memo._ He was surrounded by four guards, three more guards than usually used when transporting normal prisoners to and fro.

But, once again, Lance wasn’t normal, not anymore.

Unlike most prisoners, he had never known of the terrifying might of the Galra his entire life, never even knowing of aliens for sure for that matter. And it’s because of this lack of force, Lance fought the guards every moment he could. He was known empire wide for his unruliness. Also unlike most prisoners, he wasn’t forced into manual labor. He was one of those that fights in the gladiator cages. And as a gladiator, the rule of thumb was such: the longer you live, the more popular you become, and eventually you are given a name, a title that the Galra use to identify you.

Few ever manage to survive for that long though, so when Lance- arguably one of the smaller types of alien races in the known universe- made it through, it was inevitable that this day would come. He was being led to another match, one attended by the beast himself, Emperor Zarkon. As he came closer to the dreaded arena, threading through the maze of dark, purple lit hallways, the sounds of cheers grew louder and louder.

Until the time came where they stood in front of the cage that would bring him up to the arena, and the noise was like the roaring waves on Varadero beach when a storm was raging overhead. It was thunderous, vibrating the metal beneath his feet and making his cuffs quiver in motion. Lance grit his teeth harder, resigning himself to the dreaded fight looming ahead of him. He never liked what he resorted to in the arena. Sometimes his opponents would be seasoned fighters such as himself, other’s were sacrificial lambs to the slaughter for the cruelty of the Galra’s entertainment.

He made the mistake of letting his opponent live only once. A kid more humanoid than most he had seen throughout his months- or _phoebs_ \- and that poor alien child was made to suffer for it. They tortured that poor thing until all the screams in Lance’s throat were dried out, and his tears stopped flowing, and all Lance could do was stare brokenly ahead and whimper.

And then they left the child to die, Lance still chained tightly to the metal wall and unable to even comfort the child as he went through his last moments. After that, Lance never let another being survive the ring unless he was the one to die. And boy did that fact damage him. Lance sucked in a hissing breath as the noise reached a crescendo, the words _‘Fin-ish him! Fin-ish him!’_ echoed in his ears.

Lance braced himself one last time, shutting his horror and pain and sorrow away into the deepest part of him and locked it away with a set of keys. He didn’t open his eyes as the guards pushed him into the cage. As they surrounded him and were lifted up to the arena a few floors upwards. The cage stuttered to a stop, the distinct hum of the tech hidden beneath sleek metal panels drowned out with the roar of the crowds.

He didn’t open his eyes as the doors opened and his senses were bombarded with a wall of screams and cheers. He was moved forward a few steps, only two bodies surrounding him now. And suddenly a hush settled upon the crowd, leaving a ringing in Lance’s ears. After only a few seconds- or closest to a _tick_ in common time- a slow thumping resounded around him. The people in the stands have seen the new fighter, and recognized him, stomping their feet in tandem louder and louder. And then he heard it.

His title.

_Hun-ter. Hun-ter. Hun-ter._

Lance was known as the Hunter, because he never let his ‘prey’ escape. Lance listened as his opponent was brought to the field. Even with Lance’s eyes closed, he knew two things. One, this opponent was popular, but untitled. And two, nobody seemed to think Lance was going to survive this one, according to the rush of frantic whispers. He pushed that thought away. Let his ears take the brunt of the sensations around. He heard the chatter of the arena, the slight buzz of his cuffs, the shifting of the Galra beside him.

With a conscience thought, a click sounded in his head. He didn’t care what the Galra believed would be the outcome of the fights. Things were going to happen in one of two fashions.

A plan, _his plan_ , the one he had worked on, and with, outside forces for weeks- _movements_ \- would come to fruition, and Lance would see the outside of these metal walls for the first time. Lance would be free. Or he would be dead. If the plan flunked, the Galra would kill him for his attempt at freedom, or he would succumb to the gladiator fight and die in captivity as the _Hunter._

Either way, Lance is never returning to a cell. Not if he had anything to do with it anyways. Another sort of hush fell on the crowd. One filled with excitement, and nervous energy. The two Galra moved behind him, the shifting of their not-quite-perfectly-fitted armor giving them away as clear as day. Lance breathed in, felt the shackles on his ankles be removed.

He stayed still.

Held out his wrists, as if he would willingly go into this fight. The shackles came off and Lance opened his eyes. His vision was no longer in normal color. Everything was doused in the slightest of purple glow. Numbers and calculations, a circular target moving in and out of focus like a camera lense; they seemed as if they floated in mid air, but Lance knew better.

This was his modification, the one Zarkon’s _witch_ did to him.

He called them computer eyes, because essentially, that was what they were. Although it wasn’t eyes, the change was only done to his right eye, and in this mode, his left eye was pretty much closed while still wide open. His handcuffs fluttered to the ground. The moment the sound of his cuffs hitting dirt filtered through his ears, Lance moved.

Lance smiled ferally, like an animal.

And the arena was filled with _screams._


	2. First Sightings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal mission and the first sighting of the Castle of Lions. Lance POV.

Lance looked up from his wrist where the mini map of this system was pulled up, the hologram hovering before him on a flat screen. According to the map and all of the little pieces of information he had gathered as a Resistance member, he was in the right place. This so called computer genius should be right here. But here was in the middle of fucking nowhere. 

A snarl curled on Lance’s lips as he witnessed all his hard work go down the drain. This genius he was trying to find was once a part of the Galra empire, but he defected and went into hiding, protecting his vast knowledge of the inner workings of Galra tech with his self made, unhackable systems. As much as Lance despised the Galra for what they did to him, he only came to be returned to normal. If the guy had wanted to join the Resistance or even the Blade, that’s fine. 

Subconsciously his right hand raised to his face, trying to press against the tech lined cloth that covered his artificial eye courtesy of Zarkon’s witch, only to be stopped short by his helmet, which created oxygen to filter into his lungs in the vastness of space. He just came to see if this Galra defector would make his eye untraceable by the witch, which he knew was a thing due to the many unfortunate run ins with Galra in the unpopulated planets he took refuge on. 

But this was just unbelievable. 

Lance was weightless as he floated in space, faced directly with a ruined ship, blasted into pieces. For miles the debris scattered, making this pocket of space a ship graveyard and a nightmare to navigate in small ships. Of course, Lance being Lance, he still came in anyways. About halfway through however, he abandoned his ship to travel by his space jett. 

The gravity generator was in shambles, the outer hull boasting huge gaps where metal used to be, frayed wires and cords floating lifelessly from where they were snapped and destroyed. Lance pushed himself into the inner part of the ship skeleton and easily found his way to the control panel. The panel was relatively intact if not worn and stressed, Lance messed around in the wires to see if he could restart the control panel, diverting all left over power, if there was any to the main screen. 

The faintest flicker of life on the screen gave Lance hope that maybe, just maybe he could find some way of knowing whether the defector lives. 

And then it promptly died. 

With the knowledge of the panel being low on power but not shattered, it spurred Lance to race back to his ship as quick as the debris allowed him once he downloaded all information left on the ship’s backup storage. Then he got out of there, navigating the debris as best as he could and found a nice little planet showing no signs of life, covered in sand the color of a burgundy purple that sparkled in the nearby star’s light. 

Most of the information was useless to him, just logs of previous coordinates and a little jotted note of the defector’s movements. After passing through all of that, skimming through the entries, Lance found what he was looking for. Emergency camera logs. Most of the older ship models don’t have this feature, but Lance struck the jackpot when this ship had it. He pulled the video up on his ship’s screen, and leaned back with his arms crossed. 

After a moment the screen displaying the usual surrounding of the ship outside, turned black. There was a tick or two of just a fuzzy blackness, and Lance rolled his neck. 

The next thing he knows he’s falling out of his chair with a yelp as the sound of an explosion shocks his system. At first he figured he was under attack once more, but realized it was coming from the video feed. 

It was split down the middle; the panel on the right was a picture of a Galra man, older than most of the Galra he’s had the displeasure of having contact with. Like an older, grumpy looking, giant purple space cat. His eyes were Galra yellow, no whites, no pupils, and his fur was trimmed close to his face, which was saggy slightly with age. The man was gritting his teeth, focused on the attackers at his flank. The left of the screen, showed Lance what the defector must have been seeing as he maneuvered through space. 

The left picture spun as the guy did a flip, the stars blurring and a large Galra warship rose into view from the bottom, but was upside down on camera. Following the warship coming into view was an army of fighters that came after the defector’s ship. The defector was a fairly good pilot, and one by one the hoard of fighters diminished with every shot. Noise was lost in space, so the only explosions and shots Lance could hear were the Defector’s own. 

Lance bit his lip as he watched the Galra defector spiral out of control, his yellow eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted, the lower fangs piercing his purple colored lip. Then the defector started talking and Lance realized he was calling out for assistance, but he was in an uninhabited pocket of space, and Lance watched with wide eyes-er, eye since one was covered- as the defector was overpowered, shot into submission and then watched as he drew a blaster. 

The defector was facing away from the camera now, his back the only thing Lance could really see and he fired off five shots one after the other. The muscles of the Galra’s back were tense and hunched, and he quickly turned back to the camera, or perhaps it was the control panel and typed in a command with quick fingers. The defector had wiped his drives, or something, and Lance watched as after about twenty shots and five dead Galra, the defector finally went down and died. 

After that the fighters retreated and then the warship fired two ion cannon shots at the shuttle, and the feed went out. All of that effort on the defector’s part and no one will ever know. No one except Lance, and Lance didn’t know the guy’s name. He sighed and cleared his screen, leaning back into his chair and closing his eye so that he could rest. The next day, he needed to return to his crew, and he went in silence, a hand ghosting over his eye every once in a while as he resigned himself to another failure to free himself of the witch’s hold. 

After gaining freedom from the Galra, he joined with the outside help that had gotten him out and became a member of the Resistance. After two bases were compromised because of Lance, they sent him away, and told him he was welcome back when he was no longer the witch’s unwitting spy. They were all but willing to support him in his endeavors to free himself of course, so long as none of them ever had to meet with him in person. It was only his crew who were willing to stay by his side, and Lance was sure that was because over half of them Lance had saved personally.

They engaged in what Lance called the ‘Robin Hood tactics’ and stole from the Galra on the daily. Small shipments of supplies, large carrier holding valuable information, sometimes freeing a couple of prisoner convoys. Whatever couldn’t be traded planetside, they sold to either the Resistance or the Blade of Marmora. 

They were intense guys, the Blades; rebel Galra banded together to infiltrate and spy on Zarkon from the shadows. The Blades preferred information on Galra presence; where they like to frequent, the most heavily guarded bases and ships, things of that nature. The resistance preferred information on prisoner transports, up and coming gladiators, shipping and trading routes. Between the information sold to the Resistance and Blades, and the near constant trading on planets, Lance was practically living the good life. 

He was even on the Empire’s wanted list, he wasn’t number one of course, not yet, but he was getting there. And with every exchange, he was also paid in information on possible people who could free him from the shackles in his right eye and ear. Until that day comes however, he would continue being a Resistance member. Lance arrived back at the rendezvous point without incident, and climbed onto his fairly sizeable ship with a scowl. His crew met him in the docking bay, every single one of them. 

Lance removed his helmet, and inspected his crew. 

They were all of different alien species, and all shared a common hatred for the Empire. Most were once prisoners, other’s were once enslaved, and only one other crew member than Lance fought in the arena. That guy was named Thorak, his Second in Command. His species was a large one, taller than Galra, hairy all over with shiny blue bristles like a porcupine, and fists the size of Lance’s thigh. Thorak was a quiet guy, mostly responding in grunts and mutters unless he was yelling out commands. The guy had a voice like a car engine-low, rough, rumbling and revviving. 

Lance trusted him the most in his crew, and he didn’t trust the guy as far as he could thrown him. 

Nama, his target coordinator-meaning she chooses which Empire controlled craft they targeted- stepped forward, her holo-computer raised with the orange screen blinking at him, the letters and numbers and images blurred to him since he was looking at it from the back. She was a shorter specie, skin the color of lavender and her body thin and sharp. Lance couldn’t count the number of times he’s hit on her, because for an alien she was pretty. Most aliens were if they weren’t terrifying. 

Pretty or terrifying. 

“What’s up lavender?” Nama didn’t know what a lavender was, but she rolled her eyes and turned her holo-computer towards him. It was an image of a ship, a large one, though probably only a little bigger than his own. The tech looked nearly on par with the Galra, and he stiffened at the thought that the Galra grew smarter and changed their designs. The only reason it was so easy for Lance to get what he wants is because the Empire is far too confident in their technology. 

“What is this?” Nama turned away and started walking, and Lance lifted a dismissing hand, shooing his crew away to get back to work as he followed Nama, Thorak close on their tails. 

“It’s an unfamiliar spacecraft with technology I have never seen before. We came across their description while you were,” Nama paused, and looked at him suspiciously. “Away.” Lance never tells them where he’s going or what he’s doing when he looks for someone to fix him, and even when Thorak threatened to get physical he never revealed why he went out alone. They didn’t need to know too much about his ‘uprages’. 

“There’s nothing that matches a ship of this type before. At least that I know of anyways.” She said. Lance hummed, fighting a smirk at Nama’s disgruntled expression. 

Nama continued as they reached the debriefing bridge, waiting while Lance removed his space gear to get more comfortable. Off came the long brown cloak of leather like material, with double clasps at the throat. After that came the thick gloves, and then the bulky jetpack on his back. Lastly he shucked off the breastplate and laid it all out on the couch beside him. Nama sat in front of him patiently, Thorak standing to the side with arms crossed. 

After crossing his legs, Nama was given the go head from Lance to continue, plugging her information into the holo-computer that held screens far larger, and in 3D. A projection of the ship was in the very center, turning slowly as if on display. 

“The only thing we know about this ship is that it is completely omnidirectional. We also know that they have a particle barrier, but that’s fairly common in large spacecraft. And we know that they are enemies of the Empire.” Nama pulled up the image of a Balmera, pale and dying. 

They were sentient creatures, not planets, who were in a state of paralysis. Not only that, they produced a very valuable type of crystal, but the Empire controls all current known Balmera as far as he knows, so it’s nigh impossible to get your hands on the crystals. 

“Just recently, the ship landed on an Empire controlled Balmera, and promptly freed the people on the dying creature without need for an entire fleet. I’m still trying to figure out their weapon systems, but it’s impossible to track. Not only that but whatever they did, it healed the Balmera.” Now Lance felt his interest pique and he leaned forward as Nama pulled up an image of a healthy Balmera free from Empire control. 

_Save a Balmera? Heal it? How?_

The Balmera in question was no longer dull, or crumbling slowly into death. Even from a space wide view he could see the shimmer of unmined Balmera crystals coating the skin of the beast. Lance leaned forward for a closer look.

Nama smiled smugly, her semi-sharp, shark like teeth gleaming at him. 

“I’m listening…” Lance trailed off, trying to read the words scrawled in Nama’s native language, and failing miserably. Most of the time Lance was a natural ear for language, but whatever Nama spoke was so difficult to read and speak he gave up trying. No human could make those noises she claimed were words. 

“That’s it.” She stated. He wasn’t expecting that, and his eyes snapped to Nama’s cat like slitted eyes. Her smug smile dropped. 

“What do you mean?” He asked in confusion. Nama shrugged, almost casually it seemed, until he noticed the crease from frustration at her lips. 

“I can’t find anything. If you wish, sir, we could get into contact with the higher ups and see if the Resistance has anything to offer.” Lance visabley winced at the the idea of bothering the Resistance officials. The Resistance on average were pretty okay people, bent on freedom from Galra. Which is great and all. But most of the time the High Commanding Officers of the Resistance always had some sort of bone to pick with him.

It’s suffice to say, Lance had annoyed them far too easily.

“Set up the meeting, meanwhile do we have a new target?” At this Nama practically glowed. The image shifted from the sleek looking unfamiliar ship to a Galran ship in seconds after the sound of typed keys came from Nama’s computer. Lance felt fire rush through his veins, and he focused away from his new questions. 

Right now, he had a Galra ship to ravage and Gak to rake in.


	3. First Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and the team meet for the first time.

After the meeting with the Resistance, Lance found that all of their collected information was minimal at best. They knew that the ship was only piloted by a handful of people. They knew the ship was called the Castle of Lions, due to the fact that when landed it was an actual castle. They knew that whatever weapon they had used back on the Balmera to defeat the Empire was exceptionally strong, and unlike anything most of the universe had seen before. 

They knew that whoever piloted this castleship could create wormholes at will, while the rest of the universe relied on average lightspeed, seeing as Wormhole Technology is both nearly non-existent, and half-impossible to control. And they knew that whatever happened on the Balmera to save its life, it was a kind of magic, almost like what Zarkon’s witch uses. Except different. 

_That was it._

Everything the Resistance could pull together, was so small it filled only a page on the computer file. But luck was on Lance’s side for some reason. And although it made him suspicious- because luck hates him- he still grasped at it with both hands and held on for the ride. Lance’s ship, which he calls the Mermaid- mainly because no one knows what a mermaid is on this ship and it’s devastating- had crossed streams with the Castle of Lions. 

Lance and his ship had touched down on a small planet for resources and rest, and when they exited into space, not even an hour away was the castle of Lions, engaged in a heated battle with Galra forces. Lance watched in shock as what looked like four giant lions begin to decimate the enemy troops, even as they were steadily losing. Those lions must be the super weapon. Lance twisted his lips to the side, and then turned to his main crew. Thorak and Nama were there, standing behind him, as well as a couple of other’s. 

“Nama, establish communication with the castleship. Thorak, ready the fighters. Prepare for battle, but don’t move until I give the command. Everyone else, clear the bridge.” A flurry of movement erupted from the room and everyone but Nama and him left. 

“Ready Captain?” Nama asked. Lance paused, adjusted his pirate hat-because the Resistance were pretty much pirates in the Empire’s eyes, he would be damned if he didn’t have a pirate hat as well- and then gestured for Nama to set up the connection. He placed on his signature smile that disarms both deadly situations, and a woman’s hold on her virtue. Not that he had the chance to indulge in such wiles, except innocent flirting of course, in the past however long it was. Possibly a year, possibly longer. 

Time doesn’t exist here, at least not Earth time anyways. 

The screen flickered to life and he was face to faces with two humanoid aliens. One was set up in the center of the room from what he could see, hands on two pedestals. She was gorgeous, Lance had no qualms to admit. Her hair was a blue tinted silver that falls down her back, two strips of bangs pinned at the back of her head and showing off her long pointed ears. On the tanned skin of her cheekbones, were two pink triangular marks, that looked like it could have been makeup, or a tattoo, or natural. He noticed her eyes were a vibrant blue, even from how far away she was from the screen. Sat upon her head was a golden circlet, and she wore a dress reminiscent of Earth’s Renaissance age. 

Beside her was a man with paler skin and teal marks similar to the woman’s. His skin was tight around his eyes and nose with stress wrinkles, and his hair was a sort of reddish orange, matching his mustache. His eyes were a darker blue, and he was wearing a form fitted suit similar to the woman’s. Lance tilted his head, glancing at Nama behind the screen as she silently scanned over the battle. Nama didn’t even look up at him when she shrugged her shoulders.

“My name is Princess Allura of Altea, who are you?” Lance raised an eyebrow at the title she carried. As well as the slight venom in her tone. He had no idea where the planet Altea was but from his brief experience of it’s princess he suspected they were not a welcoming people.

“The name’s Lance. I’m a part of the Resistance, and it seems you are in some dire need of assistance.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows, his flirtatious nature getting the best of him for a short moment. A look of conflict crossed her face, even as she stumbled due to a heavy blow from the Galra. 

“Princess! Shields are down! I repeat, shields are down.” Another hit. The princess stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. Lance could see the exhaustion on her face even through the screen and it only took a few seconds before the Princess was giving the Lance the go ahead. 

“We’ve got you Princess!” Lance turned his mic on to speak to the rest of his crew who awaited his orders eagerly. They were warriors; fighting and bloodshed were in their blood, especially against the Galra. 

“Fighters deploy! Protect the castleship, no survivors! Nama,” Lance turned to the slightly startled woman and half saluted her. “I’m giving you control of my ship. I want you to run interference on the Galra radio waves. Don’t let them call for backup. Understood?”

Nama raised her arm in a salute, arm raised over her head, palm flat and facing him half a foot about her head, shouted out a “Yes Captain”, and then she immediately went back to her device. Lance bound out of the bridge and hopped into his fighter as soon as he got close. Then he took off into space and headed straight for where the big yellow lion was being cornered and surrounded by a line of Galra fighter jets. 

The Galra fighters were similar to his own. Sleek, small, and flat for maximum speed, small jets at the back in pairs and extremely maneuverable. With a whoop and a holler Lance shot down half of the fighters surrounding the big yellow lion and enabled it’s pilot to break free and ram the rest into a pile. In front of him, two screens popped into view. One was Nama, and the other the Princess. When Lance went to speak, Nama cut him off.

“Sir, fighters have been deployed. Would you like me to request backup from the Resistance?” Lance shook his head no, and then swore as he was hit, damaging his fighter wing. Red alarms blared in his fighter as he fought to keep steady and out of the way of the enemy. Nama sucked in a breath sharply as soon as the alarms blared. 

“Sir!” 

He bit his lip and then sorely regretted it as he split the skin, before giving his screen a smile. The muted feed connecting him to the castleship showed Allura shouting and stumbling. 

“I’m fine Nama, but my fighter is dead in the water. I’m coming in hot, so watch out.”

Lance flipped his damaged fighter to avoid debris, and tried to safely land on his ship, but the fighter was lurching out of his control. Lance cursed a few times. After deeming his fighter useless, Lance sealed his helmet and steered his ship in the path of least resistance. After the brief pause he took to pray to every deity he knew to not let him die, he launched out into open space. 

Just in time too. 

His fighter crashed into a giant piece of metal from the Galra command ship and exploded. He didn’t have enough time to put on his jetpack so he was floating aimlessly in the middle of battle and space without comms. A smaller piece of metal came slowly towards him and Lance used his legs to launch him in the general direction of the Mermaid.

It took as long as the main part of the battle raged for Lance to get to the Mermaid. Another maybe twenty minutes to get to the other side of the ship where the airlock was. Cold was starting to seep through his suit, despite it being made to regulate temperature. But he managed it at least, with a burning feeling in his arms in legs that only happens after intense workouts.

He was fairly positive he burned through half of his energy for the next few months, and he hopped out of the airlock and into the main part of the bridge. His pirate hat was lost to space, but Lance shrugged and forgot about it. He could always make another if he truly wanted it again.

All in all this battle was fairly uneventful for Lance.

Lance and Nama were the only ones on the ship now, and Lance docked the Mermaid on the castleship with permission from Allura. She looked like she was eating hot chili peppers while agreeing but Lance would take what he could get.

He headed to the main bridge, after Nama gave him thorough instructions on how to get there.


	4. Commander Shek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls and caught spying.

Lance first made his way to the rooms he had on his ship, which was significantly smaller that the castleship as opposed to his previous thought. That might have been Nama’s fault but still. He had thought the Mermaid was pretty spacious, but this castleship was ridiculous. 

After finding the Mermaid empty, he quickly changed out of his battle gear and into some more formal looking attire. He donned a dark blue coat that was fairly tight down to the waist and then the front and back split to make two tails that was the length of his legs, nearly brushing the floor. It was so dark, it almost seemed black, with three shiny silver fasteners at his side, causing the fabric to wrap around his body to his hip. 

Underneath that was a black, skin tight bodysuit meant to regulate temperature, which was underneath an armor breastplate that was actually black and shiny. His pants were like black cargo pants, tucked into his boots with far too many buckles, straps, and zippers to be functional except it worked and they came just beneath his knees. The coat was long sleeved, and snug to his body, pressed down at the forearms with two gauntlets. 

The right one was for scanning, hacking (Nama does it remotely through his gauntlet), and connected to the jetpack controls in his black gloves. The left includes; calculating the air to see if it is breathable for humans, the simple body scans for health, and his own mini database that erases itself if anyone but him try entering it. It also has a map of the known universe coined to his location as default. And as per usual, the tech lined cloth that covers the right side of his face and jams the tracking device inside it. On top of all of this were his weapons. 

A pair of pistol like blasters that pack a stronger punch than most, designed specifically for him, were strapped to the small of his back in an x- formation, one on top of the other. It’s rare for Lance to need to draw the second blaster, but the occasion does happen. Along with that were blades. One each, hidden inside his boots given as a gift from a survivor of the arena that Lance had freed. Feeling like he looked both threatening and fabulous, he slipped out of his ship and followed Nama’s directions to the bridge. 

When he exited the doors of the Mermaid, and the first thing that drew his eye was the hulking beast of a metal lion the color of the sea, blue and bright and fearless. Lance was captivated, nearly hypnotized to walk up to the lion’s barrier, but Nama’s voice came over his wrist comms and he hustled in the opposite direction. All the while feeling as if the Blue Lion was watching him leave. The way to the bridge was actually fairly easy considering how huge the ship was, and as he entered he saw Nama engaged in a conversation with the humanoid man with a mustache. 

Up on the screen it seemed as if the battle was drawing to a close, far quicker than what could’ve been had his fighters not joined the fight. Lance walked forward, ready to announce his presence before Princess Allura rounded him, her hands finally leaving the pedestals as she approached. Lance geared up the most corny pick up line he could think up as she approached, but she cut him off with a wide eyed stare and a few disarming words. 

“You’re human, aren’t you?” Lance blinked. Most aliens didn’t know what a human was, let alone how to spot them. There were plenty of humanoid creatures in the universe of course. That being said, none were so closely human as whatever this Princess Allura seemed to be. Behind him the bridge doors opened, but he paid them no mind for the moment. 

“Yes. How do you know what a human is?” 

Allura pointed behind him while saying, “Because I’ve had the pleasure of living with four of them for a little over a-what was it human’s called it? A month.” 

Lance turned quickly and found himself face to faces, once more with humanoid creatures. Except these were distinctly human. And they were staring at him in as much shock as Lance was staring at them. It was at this point that Nama walked up, head lowered to her holo-computer, and completely dense to the air around her. 

“Captain, a transmission from headquarters. It’s urgent.” Lance broke his stare off with the four humans he needed to have a conversation with soon, to look at the holo computer and groan. 

“Whatever you did this time Captain, I call your rank if you get suspended.” Nama said. Lance muttered and snatched the holo computer away from Nama, who stalked off laughing back to the Mermaid. 

“Excuse me, Princess Allura. I must take this in private…?” Lance trailed off. 

“Of course, follow me to the lounge, I’m sure no one will bother you there for a while.” There was an undertone, and a slightly pointed look at one of the humans, who Lance refused to look at, and she led him to the lounge. It was a bare room, with only a rounded couch set a few steps into the floor. Lance answered the call and braced himself for a lecture for something he probably did. 

_“Captain, so nice of you to pick up..”_ Lance so did not feel up to this right now.

_______________

Allura turned to her paladins after she left Lance to his privacy. She had tried to keep her message subtle but she was sorely out of practice with the idea of subtlety. 

A stranger was on her ship. 

Human or otherwise, she needed to stay cautious with an eye out for enemies. If this were before the 10,000 year long cry-sleep, she would have been far better at predicting who would betray them and who would assist them. That whole mix up with Nyma and Rolo before they saved the Balmera proved that trust was far too hard to gain in this new age, and far easier to use it for sabotage. 

“Pidge?” She waved a hand at Allura as she turned and made her way to a far more secure location than the hallway, then promptly pulled up the screen of the lounge. This feed wasn’t actually from the cameras, because in Pidge’s words, _“for a supremely advanced society Altean security cameras sucked.”_

No this feed was from Pidge’s pet robot, Rover, who hovered silently where it could get a clear view of both Lance and his screen. Meaning whoever was on the screen. If the person turned out to be a Galra or even- Alfor forbid, Zarkon himself- the paladins would strike fast and hard and leave no evidence behind. Perhaps Allura was paranoid, but who cares. A quick type of Pidge’s fingers and they all had sound. 

“Captain, so nice of you to pick up.” Lance smiled thinly and there was a beat of silence, which Pidge used to move Rover into a better position. The man on the screen was not Galra, in fact Allura couldn’t remember what species it was entirely. Their skin was a rough rock like texture, colored the brightest of greens, and splotched with circles of pink and purple that changed color every few seconds. His eyes bulged from his head like a lizard, and he was scowling fiercely at Lance. 

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.” Shiro muffled a snort from beside her, his body heat pressed against her as they all tried to watch closely to see what happens. She could understand his humour. Lance sounded like an Altean child trying to get out of trouble. Or specifically, Allura when she tried to get out of trouble. The man on screen dropped his scowl with a heavy sigh. 

Lance darted his eyes around him briefly before returning to the screen.

“Nevermind, Lance. About that information on that unfamiliar ship, what did you call it? Right, the Lion Castle or something.” Lance butted in with a weak voice. 

“Castle of Lions actually.” Lance was ignored. 

Allura felt herself tense in preparation for another betrayal, but at least this one would not be so deep seated as Zarkon’s. Shiro laid a hand- his human hand- on her shoulder and squeezed her shoulder in comfort. She relaxed. Alteans did always attempt peace before war after all. Then again, they were already in the middle of a war anyways, so maybe that tradition was cancelled out. 

“We have some more information regarding the Castle of Lions, I can send you the information immediately.” Lance cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice went a few pitches higher. 

“Actually Commander, I’m sort of, well. I’m sort of inside the castleship. Right now. Already.” His sentence became a choppy mess by the last few words as anger turned the green skin red on screen, the splotches turning an almost burgundy in color. His voice was calm however, through the screen, which belied his emotions so plainly across his face. 

“What?” Lance leaned forward, his smile nervous. 

“It was an accident! We happened to cross paths, and they were fighting the Galra-I have to tell you whatever those weapons are they are amazing. They’re like gigantic metal cats. Wait do you know what a cat is? Are there cats in space? Space cats, it sounds like a movie title-nevermind, sorry. I’m getting off track. But-” Lance was cut off as his Commander yelled at him. 

“What were you thinking!? What if they weren’t friendly? What if this was just another of Zarkon’s latest weapons? Did you think of that?” Lance stammered. 

“But.. Sir you don’t understand. You know me, I can read people like the back of my hand! And Allura-” He was cut off again. 

“You’re on a first name basis!?” Lance winced, and Allura almost felt pity for the guy, but she desperately wanted to know what he was going to say next. 

“Listen please?” Lance sounded and looked exasperated, judging from the way he combed through his straight brown hair, causing it to stick up in every direction. Then he stood and began pacing. 

“Listen. I know my orders were not to engage, even if we crossed paths. But you don’t understand! I can’t explain it. I just.” Lance huffed, a hand scratching at the material covering his eye. 

“Allura- I mean Princess Allura- and her team were in distress. I couldn’t just stand by and watch the Galra kill more people. Besides I’m not stupid enough to venture onto an unknown spacecraft without being prepared. I have my pistols, and my helmet. I’m wearing that super special armor you got me, and I have my crew downstairs. Then again, I don’t really trust my crew all that much so that probably isn’t much help.” Lance was rambling at this point, the paladins sharing a meaningful look Allura didn’t comprehend but didn’t bother asking over. She focused on Lance, whose voice kept getting higher. 

“And then, I got on board and there were actual humans! Four humans. Correction four gorgeous humans. If I’m going to meet my end at least let me die here surrounded by such beauty.” His tone was playful, but the Commander didn’t seem to appreciate the tone all that much. Lance cleared his throat before beginning again.

“Joking aside though, I just want to see what happens with this Princess and the humans. At least let me talk to them Commander.” The Commander’s face had returned to it’s normal green, and Lance waited with bated breath. The Commander seemed to look right into Lance’s soul, even through the screen, and narrowed his eyes. 

“You keep calling me that.” Lance stared, his mouth open before he snapped his jaw shut, brows crinkling in confusion. 

“Lance, if they are threatening you to say these things give me a signal and I will be there in two ticks to destroy them.” At this Lance sputtered out a laugh, and it took a minute for him to gain control of himself. He even wiped a fake tear away as he took his seat again.

“I miss your sense of humour, honestly. You know I wouldn’t break to something as simple as threats. Give me at least a little credit.” The Commander looked unconvinced. 

“Then why do you keep calling me by my title? You’ve never been one for titles before.” Lance blinked, and Allura felt amused at how quickly this conversation went from serious and reprimanding to concerned and playful. Lance smiled back like nothing was wrong in the universe.

“Oh. That’s because as much as I want to trust these humans, I don’t. So giving them your name while they spy on what is supposed to be a private conversation sounds like a bad idea, even to me. And I’m like, the king of bad ideas.” They all jumped in shock. Pidge seemed to scramble to bring Rover back, but Lance looked straight into the camera and waved with a wicked smile. 

Then the feed went black as she brought Rover back to the group, face flushed. How Lance knew where Rover was, no one knew, because Pidge had outfitted the bot with a cloaking device that didn’t un-activate until it got back to Pidge’s side. Before the doors shut, they could hear the laughter of Lance echoing down the hall. Pidge stood up and then bolted out of the room. 

After a shared look, they all bounded after her, catching up just as she barged into the lounge with a Lance spread out on the couch lazily.


	5. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New allies are cemented.

Lance had already shut off the transmission as the little cloaked robot disappeared through the doors. He hadn’t realized it was there at first, but then he heard the faint sound of someone smothering a laugh, and seeing as Lance was alone, he figured someone was spying. So as discreetly as he could, which wasn’t much anyways, he took a casual look around and spotted the discoloration of air that could only mean a cloaking device. It was fairly amusing these people thought they could get the drop on him. 

Not with his senses. 

Perhaps someday he’ll have that normality again, the ability to actually be surprised. All he needs is a tech lover that can get this wretched tracker off of him. Luckily he had the jamming cloth or else he would be putting this entire new group of humans in danger. Lance pushed the thought out of his head, knowing it would eventually lead to bad memories, and he spread out on the couch after shutting off communications with Shek. The man had been right after all. 

Lance really never cared for titles. 

To be fair though, almost a year trapped with the title Hunter made him see titles as useless formalities. The humans and humanoids burst into to the lounge, and Lance carefully examined his nails with an air of nonchalance. They were a little chipped. He hadn’t had a spa day in a long while, and even if he did adopt alien skincare products into his daily routine, it wasn’t the same as a true spa day. 

“How did you know?” Lance smirked, and turned to the group. He was finally actually getting a chance to look at them properly without distractions. Allura was by far the most beautiful alien he had encountered so far, but that could be due to her human like appearance. Her hair was like snow falling down her back, tinted the slightest of blue, some of it tied out of her face. Her skin was tan, much like Lance’s own skin, and upon her cheeks were two pink triangular marks. 

She wore a golden circlet around her head, and Lance could only assume that had to do with her title as Princess. Her eyes were bluer than the seas back on Earth as well, vibrant and fueled with a burning fire of defiance. She looked ready to attack, and Lance had no doubt she could kick his butt anyday. Next to her was a very handsome human, his suit white with black accents. 

He was well built, older but not old, with a pink scar neatly across his face underneath charcoal eyes. His hair was an undercut on the bottom half of his head, short trimmed above it, and one single hair floof at his forehead. All of his hair but the hair floof was a rich brown, while the floof was more strikingly white than the beautiful alien. He was vaguely familiar, and when he crossed his arms, Lance noticed the Galra prosthetic. 

Seems he spent some time with the druids. 

Lance moved on, looking over the next human. His suit was white with red accents, and his hair was in a messy mullet, also deep brown- almost black, framing a very sharp face and a pair of dark violet eyes filled with a cold type of regard. He wasn’t quite as built as the scarred man beside him, and not as old either. He actually looks more Lance’s age than anything. 

Lance moved to the one throwing a question at him and was staring at a small child, human, with green accents in her suit. Her glasses were large, too large for her head, and steadily falling downward. They shielded a pair of honey colored eyes creased in the corners, which matched her strawberry blonde hair, cut into the roughest version of a bob that he nearly flinched from the atrocity. Despite how masculine she looked, Lance knew that the child was female. She was just too soft to be male, despite the hard curl of her lips. 

The next human was so opposite in looks and shape to the small girl, it was disorienting. He was tall, and round, with a babyish face, and wearing a suit with yellow accents. He looked half like he was terrified, and half like he was nauseous. His black hair was flattened slightly by an orange headband, and his brown eyes that bordered on red were wide and panicky. The small girl shifted and suddenly that robot came from behind her, uncloaked now. It was a triangular pyramid, with glowing blue green accents. 

He recognized the type of bot. It was a reprogrammed Galra surveillance droid. Those things are the worst nuisances on missions. 

“I asked you a question! How did you know Rover was there?” Lance sighed and sat up. He crossed one leg and watched as half of the humans and Allura took a seat across from him on the opposite couch. The only ones left standing was mullet and the child. And while the child looked simply put out and burning with curiosity, mullet looked like he was more ready to attack than the princess, who sat tensely even now. 

“Well at first I didn’t. I had absolutely no clue you were spying on me, although I guess I should have sort of expected it. But then I heard a noise, and I noticed the discoloration of air, and it clicked that someone cloaked a spy device.” Lance leaned closer to get a better look at the robot-Rover. 

“Noise?” The child asked, _demanded._ Lance nodded slowly, realization slowly coming to mind.

“I’m assuming you didn’t deactivate the two way sound? All of these types of droids are used for both surveillance and as intercoms. The video feed is one way, but the sound feed is two way unless manually changed. I can’t tell you how many times missions were compromised because of these things. They’re the bane of my existence, repeat, the bane of my existence.” Lance said, casually enough so none of these people felt threatened. He leaned forward to point out the front mike below the lense and the child in green just whispered a small ‘oh’.

“Speaking of,” lance continued. “Who did this? This is Galra tech right? Did you buy it unprogrammed?” The child huffed and scowled as if he insulted her. 

“Of course not, I stole it and reprogrammed it when we were on a mission.” She said, sounding so proud of herself. Then Lance blinked at her slowly. 

“You mean you know your way around Galra tech? This isn’t an exaggeration?” This time he looked around and saw all of them shaking their heads. 

“Are you saying this small child is a Galra hacker?” Perhaps Lance shouldn’t have said that. The ‘small child’ in question let out an indignant sound as if she was a wounded animal. 

“Are you doubting me!?” For some reason this made Lance laugh and he shook his head. He even held up his hands in surrender. 

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Before he could say more, almost simultaneously, Lance felt his ‘upgraded’ eye itch just as his wrist beeped. It was a reminder that he needed to change out his mask. Lance would get Nama to do it later, she was almost scarily gentle with it. As much as this cloth was needed, Lance despised it. It itches, and it felt weird. Lance smiled up at the group of people in front him innocently.

“So what are your names? I can’t keeping calling you by your appearances. Mullet, Child, Scar, and Big guy can only get me so far.” Allura flushed at this, her marks seemingly glowing on her cheeks. 

“Right forgive me for my rudeness. From left to right, is Keith, Pidge, me of course, Shiro and Hunk.” So Keith was mullet, Pidge was the child, then Allura, and then the man with the prosthetic was Shiro and the big guy was Hunk. Wait a minute. _Shiro?_

“Shiro? You wouldn’t mean, as in Takashi Shirogane right?” All five of them flinched in shock, specifically the one called Shiro. Lance looked closer at him and recalled the vague image of his one time hero, Pilot Shirogane. He slowly nodded to himself. 

“Yes, I see now. You are him aren’t you?” Shiro nodded, weary of Lance all of a sudden. Lance smiled brightly. 

“Man, you were once my hero! I wanted to be a pilot just like you! Man that seems like a lifetime ago.” Lance leaned back with a sigh, and then rolled his neck with a groan. He was starting to become tense from the thinly veiled hostility emanating off the group surrounding him. 

He should probably feel a little threatened at this point. The five of them completely surrounded him in his spot in, what it seems like, an almost unconscious movement. They were blocking off his escape, but Lance kept his posture open and relaxed, as if these weren’t people but cornered animals. 

If there was anything Lance knew he was good at, it was three things. The first was swimming; if he hadn’t have felt such a calling to the stars in his youth-which ultimately caused him to be captured in the first place- then Lance could have gone pro in swimming. And if it wasn’t swimming, he was unnaturally good with animals, even alien ones he had come to figure out. There has been many a times where things went bad for him because of his fascination with animals. 

The last, and the only one that actually helps him survive in this war against the Empire, is his aim. His go to guns were pistols, only because they were easy to carry, easy to conceal if he feels like it, and they were the best when it comes to dual wielding. Not many people can be good aims with both hands, but Lance was ambidextrous. 

So he treated these humans who had been so obviously hurt deeply, perhaps by the Galra, as if they were injured dogs cowering in the corner. He kept relaxed and unthreatening, open with his words and emotions and actions. He also made sure to make no sudden movements in case Keith got it into his head to attack. 

“Look Allura, there is no need to feel so threatened by me.” Allura snapped back into her seat but Lance continued gently. “My team and I are just here hoping to make an ally. You don’t want us here? I’ll take them and my ship and leave. This doesn’t have to be harder than it should be.” 

Allura looks almost as if she were chastised and Lance felt bad, but he softened his words as much as possible. A silence covered the group like a blanket, before Lance sighed and slowly eased up off the couch, still wary enough not to give any reason for an attack. Humans, Lance could attest to, were animals when needed. 

Wild, vicious, and hard to predict. 

Lance began his trek back to the Mermaid, and was crossing the hangar to his ship. Half of his crew was just chilling outside the ship. They knew better than to leave the ship’s side without his permission, except Nama but Lance would never dare try to tell her what to do. And then just as he came close to the first lion, the sleek frame of the Red Lion, no barrier unlike the Blue Lion he had seen earlier, the inhabitants of the castleship caught up to him. Technically the hangars were all separate, connected with one wide hallway that branched off to the sides to connect to the hangars. 

Of course that doesn’t mean they aren’t all visible as you pass them, the walls surrounding the entire level blocking them from being totally visible from hangar to hangar. Then Lance was stopped by a shout that could only belong to the princess and he smiled almost smugly as he turned to see them all rushing to catch up to him.


	6. ECD - It matters I swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward conversations and the ECD.

To say Lance was not in the least bit smug when Princess Allura coaxed him back so they could talk, well, that’s just a flat out lie unlike any before. Lance was positive his attempts to keep it off his face were fruitless, according to the cold look Allura gave him when she thought he wasn’t looking. 

So now they sat at a dinner table. His crew were still confined to the ship, except for the lovely and terrifying Nama, who only left the ship by her own free will to drag him to get his mask changed. It’s never a pleasant experience in Lance’s eyes. The tech is borderline infused into his skin when applied, and taking it off is like taking off a very stubborn bandaid on a hairy part of the body. 

Except maybe like three times worse. 

He only has two, because they’re reusable, but if he doesn’t give them a break the tiny technology in the cloth will fry and make life difficult for Lance. All of them were kind of awkwardly silent, no one daring to breach the silence to start a conversation. Lance idly tapped his fingernails against the table surface as he leaned casually in his seat, waiting for the other’s to start asking all the questions he knows are on the tip of their tongues. 

He knows, because Lance has his own questions dying to flow from his mouth. Eventually even tapping the table got awkward so Lance decided to break the air. 

“Okay. So since you are all going to make this as painful as possible, I guess I’ll start.” His voice had jostled the other humans in their places, who had each found someway to avoid looking at him and at each other. Allura was seated at the head of the table in true princess form. Her back was straight, almost painfully so. Her silvery hair cascading down her back, lightly pinned between her back and the seat. 

Her blue eyes were calm, at least when she isn’t giving Lance a cold look, and her hands were settled neatly on the table, gently folded over each other. Lance kept passing cautious looks at her hands, that seemed to have just a little too much of her fingers hidden in her sleeve. He wouldn’t be all that surprised if she had a knife in her sleeve and just waiting for him to screw up her fragile trust and give her a reason to stab him in the face. 

Shiro and Lance were settled to the seats beside Allura, Lance on the left and Shiro on the right. Shiro was scratching at his neck as he stared at the table. Beside Shiro was Keith, who was flipping a knife in his fingers, looking bored and agitated. Beside him was Pidge, who started typing away at her computer-an actual laptop, the sight of it brought a sense of longing bursting in his chest- after about two seconds of awkward silence. 

Hunk was next to Lance, and the big guy was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Lance sighed as all eyes turned to him, but no one spoke up. Guess it’s time for some good old McClain charm. Lance flashed his most dazzling smile, and almost immediately felt, like, three of the other’s relax. 

“The name’s McClain. Lance McClain. I like pretty things, long walks on the beach, and making a pretty lady smile.” This time he turned his attention to the Princess with a flirtatious smile and finger guns. She was obviously lacking in the easily trusting department, so Lance figured she would be the hardest to break. And he wasn’t kidding that he wanted to see her smile. 

It would probably light up her whole face. 

Lance could already imagine the effects of her own smile on her face. Her blue eyes would warm up and sparkle. Her little markings on her cheek stretching and practically glowing pink. He wondered if she would be like his sister Maria, who, when she smiled, her face flushed. Every single time. Maria’s cheeks would burn red, the tips of her ears red as well. 

Lance wondered if perhaps, instead of Maria, she would smile like Veronica. She had the biggest smiles, but she hated the way her eyes would squint so if she catches her smiles getting too big, she’ll bite her lip to stop her smile from growing but it always fails. Lance turned his thoughts away from his family quickly, and winked at Allura. 

“I’m talking about you Princess.” He didn’t get a smile but he did get an eye roll, which was better than a scowl. Lance didn’t give the silence a chance to envelop them. 

“Now that that is over, tell me something about yourselves, anything at all.” And then, just like that the tense air was broken. Lance learned quite a few things while observing and listening to the other humans. He knew that Hunk was extremely nice, and exactly the type of person he could have as a best friend. 

Hunk was also a hugger, sharing no less than three hugs with the others around him by the time the conversation ended. He also learned that Pidge was a genius with technology. The little robot hovering around her shoulder was obviously once on the Galra side of the war, and in a matter of seconds it was helping the team. 

That’s another thing, they call themselves the Paladins of Voltron. Voltron was a giant, magical, space robot lion made up of five smaller magical space robot lions which was the ultimate weapon he had heard of across the galaxies. Lance and Pidge had bonded by using old Earth pop culture references, and laughing when they were the only ones who knew what they were saying. 

Keith was hard to crack, but Lance managed it when they began talking of cool space weapons. Lance was unashamed to admit that he has a collection of weapons and things from across the universe hidden away on his ship. Half of them Lance doesn’t even know how to use. Keith ended up making Lance promise to show him sometime soon. 

Shiro was an all around cool guy, someone who kept his diplomat aura on the entire time but eventually they bonded over alien worlds. He was ecstatic when Lance told him most of his crew were once prisoners of the Empire Lance had freed. Pidge had looked at him with a grim line of her lips but she had said nothing when Lance questioned her, just looked away and at her computer blankly. 

All in all it was a good talk for awhile, and when it was time to get rest Lance took his cue to leave. He pushed back his chair and stood up, stretching upward and then scratching at his mask. 

“Well, I think it’s time my crew and I depart. It was nice meeting you all.” Lance broke into a smile when he realized Hunk was practically in tears at the news of his impending departure. Lance felt his smile turn softer, and he looked at the other humans fondly. 

“Thank you for bringing me a piece of Earth.” Shiro stood up as well, his brow pinched in a frown. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay? We can offer you a chance to rest and rejuvenate.” Lance shook his head. 

“Actually,” Pidge said almost absently. “I’m surprised none of them have gone exploring the castleship. Coran just messaged me saying that they haven’t left the ship at all.” 

Lance hadn’t met Coran, who he supposed was the other alien humanoid. His smile turned sharp and icy, making Hunk almost step back in shock. 

“My crew know better than to leave the ship without my express permission.” Lance let his expression soften into his default charming smile. The one that crinkled his eyes so no one could read the emotions behind them. 

“The only exception to this rule is Nama, who I fear far too much to try and order around, and Thorak, my Second in Command. But Thorak prefers taking charge in battle and leaving the diplomatic things to me, so he doesn’t really count.” A slightly awkward silence followed Lance’s words and remembered his ECD, which was what the Resistance call the communication devices, short for Encrypted Communication Device. 

He glanced around real quick, looking for Allura. It seemed she had slipped out while he was talking with the paladins. 

“Forgive me, I forgot to give Allura something before she left. But I guess I could leave it with Shiro.” Lance took his hands from behind his head, and reached into his inner coat pocket on the right side of his chest. When he pulled his hand away, with it came the communication device. It was shaped roughly like a slightly flattened egg, with three black, circular buttons in a row, with one big red button below them. 

The red button actually had a plastic casing covering it, but the button itself was deeply inlaid into the surface, so the plastic covering didn’t bulk up. The entire look of it was a sleek white metal, with a decorative striped of blue. Or at least, Lance assumed they were only decorative. Shiro, Pidge and Hunk moved closer to Lance, Keith standing just behind them. 

“What’s that?” Pidge asked as she leaned forward, adjusting her glasses and briefly shielding her brown eyes because of the glare. Lance smiled and tilted it towards Pidge. 

“It’s a long range communication device, we call it the ECD. It piggybacks off Galra signals like a ghost. The messages are encrypted and made to just look like radio static. The only thing that can decrypt the messages are the communicators and possibly a damn good hacker.” At this Lance paused to raise an eyebrow mockingly at Pidge. 

Keith leaned a little closer as he explained how to work the device, the heat of his body nearly suffocating Lance as they stood side by side. The first black button at the left side was for playing and deleting messages. The center button brought up the screen of all undeleted messages, and at that point it was used by touch, much like holo-computers and holo screens, and pretty much every non-Earth portable technology. The right black button was used for recording messages. 

If you hold down the left button it brings up the list of people who weren’t CO’s (commanding officers) who could receive messages. If you hold down the right side button it brings up the CO list. 

“And the big red button only has one job. When in desperate times a Resistance operative can flip up this screen and push the red button. It will automatically send out a distress signal and message to every person who holds a device. The message contains the basic information of coordinates, time it was sent, and the name of the owner of the device. Help will be sent as quickly as possible.” Lance set his lips in a grim line as he lowered the device. He made sure to catch everyone’s attention, looking each of them in the eye until the uh realized he was serious before continuing. 

“This button is for emergencies only, and this device is not a toy.” Lance flipped the device in his palm, and showed them the back. It was hardly noticeable, but a small stylus was pressed into the back. The only way that someone could tell it was there was because of the blue tip, which looked like a random blue dot in the middle of the device. Lance slipped it out easily, and held it up. 

“This stylus is your safeguard.” Lance turned the device to the side, and showed them the small hole in the side. 

“When it seems as if things are bad, and help can’t get to you fast enough you need to use the stylus. If things are hopeless, press the end of the stylus into this hole, and seal it in completely. You will meet a bit of resistance, but that’s because the stylus is severing all the wires and making this thing useless. These can’t get into the hands of the Galra, they are far too easy to reverse engineer when you have the physical device on hand.” He showed them the white end of the stylus. 

“This stylus in and of itself could save you. The tip is extremely sharp, so it can sever the wires.” Lance pressed the tip of his finger against the tip and barely pressed before a bead of blood ran down the side of the stylus. Lance quickly wiped the red liquid away and shoved his throbbing finger into his mouth. After a moment he continued. 

“I suspect none of you will ever come to being in this situation, but if you are captured and are being interrogated this might be the only thing keeping you from being a traitor. Resistance members who are captured, can choose to end their life if they don’t have the strength to keep fighting. I will admit, this situation is actually rare because we leave no man behind, but still. The option is there. You can break the blue tip and drink the fast acting poison it gives you. And even if you don’t use it to kill yourself, it could also be used to escape if you use it correctly. Poisoning captors, stabbing them, breaking control panels by severing wires. It’s not just for suicide.” 

Lance let the heavy atmosphere wash away with a sigh before smiling at them while they just looked at him in varying degrees of shock and horror. 

“Believe me, I wasn’t so keen on that part of the design, but it got me out of a couple of sticky situations myself.” A brief pause, before Lance tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Now on a lighter note, if you want only one for the entire team Voltron that’s fine. But I do have more if you wish for personal ones.” He held out the device for Shiro to grab after re-securing the stylus into its slot. Shiro hesitantly held out his hand, and Lance gently laid it the device in his human palm, then covered Shiro’s larger hand with both of his slim ones. 

A gesture of comfort. 

“It might seem like it’s a little over the top, what with the whole stylus thing and all, but in war there is sacrifice.” Lance looked away from his hands covering Shiro’s and looked into his dark eyes that looked overshadowed with his scar beneath it. 

“This war is not like video games, and it’s not like the stories of the old wars on Earth. It’s nothing like the simulators at the Garrison, and it’s not full of glory like history presents it as. It’s full of heartache, and pain, and a whole lot of living nightmares. I know you understand the cruelty of the Galra better than most, Shiro.” Shiro’s eyes crinkled in confusion, and Lance simply laid his left hand on Shiro’s robotic arm, before lifting it to press his fingers gently into his mask covered eye. 

Shiro’s eyes softened in pain and understanding.

“If you truly wish to fight in this war, you need to be ready for it. That said, that doesn’t mean every person you meet is another enemy, and every place you see will cave into destruction. The universe can be a beautiful thing, if you don’t let its shadows consume it.” Lance felt the silence slice into him as if it were a blade, and his masked eye itched. 

Lance walked away then without a backward glance, hands placed behind his back, his left hand rubbing against his right.


	7. Shiro's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's thoughts and insight on the Lions.

If there is one truth in life, it’s that war does things to people. 

Shiro knew that from experience. 

Sometimes the _Mark of War_ is physical. It shows on the body through scars, injuries and even limbs that are no longer there. Other times the _Mark of War_ is psychological. Memories, nightmares, an acute reaction to certain things. Or maybe it’s emotional. Distrust, biased thoughts, paranoia. Shiro knew for sure all of the paladins had their own _Marks of War_ on them. 

Keith was always training, working himself into exhaustion by the thought of _‘What if I’m not strong enough? I must be stronger.’_ His greatest fear was that something would happen while on a mission or in the fight against the Empire. That something would happen, and it was all because of Keith not being strong enough. 

Pidge has insomnia. The poor kid was always up and about all hours of the night, being her own personal slave driver. Shiro was positive the only reason she slept at all was because her body forced it upon her. It wasn’t unusual to find her passed out asleep in the oddest of places. On the stairs, inside the elevator, the Green Lion hangar, her work station, the dining room. And those are only the usual places and places Shiro found her personally. Hunk once found her sleeping on top of one of the healing pods. How she managed that escaped him.

Hunk was a nervous mess. Sure, even Shiro will concede that Hunk was taking this all better than the rest of the paladins, but he was still _Marked_. Hunk was just of a far more stable set of mind. He talked when he needed to, usually to Coran. He baked and experimented to make actual food out of the green goo the Alteans believe is called food when he was stressed. And he tinkered along side Pidge when he could. Shiro thinks the only reason the big guy wasn’t the worst about the whole situation was because he unofficially has been declared ‘mother hen’. He brought food to Keith when he was too caught up in training. Took Pidge to bed when he could manage it. 

She might be tiny, but the crankiness and extreme inclination to insult if disturbed usually turned Hunk away from helping her, if only because she seemed perfectly fine where she’s at. Not even Shiro could lay a hand on her to take her to bed without her snapping at him. And he wasn’t being metaphorical in that statement. Pidge _literally_ bit him once, and he was just glad it was his Galra arm. There were still minute teeth marks on his metallic forearm. 

After that Shiro never tried again. 

Shiro himself was probably the worst out of them all, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Nightmares, insomnia, the need to train as hard as he can to be as strong as he can. Not eating. _PTSD._ Shiro was broken, or perhaps he was just breaking. But he was a leader. _The_ leader. The Black Lion’s Paladin; head and body of Voltron. Princess Allura’s second in command. Actually perhaps he was third in command, after Coran. Hard to tell.

To add to that, Coran and Allura had their own _Marks of War._ Allura had her general distrust of anyone who wasn’t Coran and perhaps a paladin. Her reaction to Lance was proof enough of that fact. Shiro personally believes Allura and Coran had it the worst. Zarkon had been Coran’s friend, just as Alfor was. Princess Allura practically grew up with Zarkon around; perhaps she even called him Uncle, or a title close to it. Zarkon and Alfor had been friends after all. 

No doubt Allura saw him often as she grew up. 

Zarkon was the Black Paladin, Alfor the Red Paladin; King Alfor had been Zarkon’s equal as a monarch, and his second in Voltron. All to be thrown away in betrayal, after the supposed death of Zarkon and his wife. After grieving for a lost friend, Alfor was suddenly facing a siege led by his old friend turned enemy. That kind of betrayal sets deep into a person to be sure. 

Coran had experience with war; he was far too wise to not have seen his own type of bloodshed. So it makes sense that the man was not affected outwardly quite as much as the rest of them. Both Allura and Coran suffered from Zarkon’s backstabbing, and then to top it all of were sent in cryo sleep for ten thousand years. 

Their families, their friends, their entire world and race. 

All decimated. 

Destroyed. 

Wiped off the map to leave a hole in the chart of the stars. 

That kind of pain and sorrow couldn’t be brushed aside so easily. He was sure they suffered in their own silences and then led a war in the presence of others. Shiro was so keen to the signs of war in his friends- his family. And now he had another example that broke his heart in half. 

_Lance._ A boy, barely into adulthood. Like Keith, and Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Practically children. All of them thrown into this war with no guarantee that the day they left home wouldn’t be their last, except for Allura who did know. But the others, they may never go home, lost to the stars. Lost to a war that never seems to end. Lost to the universe as nothing more than children playing War Hero. 

The thought made Shiro’s stomach tighten. He could be there for the boys and Pidge. He could be there for Princess Allura and Coran. He can and has been there for them all. Except Lance. Shiro knew practically nothing about his involvement in the war, his ties to the fight. 

He didn’t know how Lance left Earth, and he didn’t know when he left Earth. He didn’t know what all Lance had gone through and how he survived for so long, as one of the few- or only- humans in the fight against Zarkon. Alone. All alone. 

_And that was the kicker wasn’t it?_

They knew next to nothing of Lance, who seemed to have his own _Marks of War._ It was the only thing Shiro could understand from that gesture he made before he left. The touch to his Galra arm. Soft, and gentle, the barest sensation of Lance’s calluses over the metal of his prosthetic. 

The press of Lance’s fingers over his own eye. It was covered up by some weird mask, and at least he and the others knew better than to question a stranger about such sensitive topics. Shiro felt guilty over his curiosity for the story of Lance’s missing eye. More than likely Lance had lost his eye fighting the Galra, and covered it up from shame. 

Shiro knew the feeling. 

There were days where he stayed holed up in his room, just laying down with his arm covered, and pretending he was at home. The smell of Gracia’s Bakery next door wafting into his apartment, the aroma enticing him to indulge in one of Gracia’s popular sweets and cakes. More often than not he had caved to that call of weakness, working out for extra hours the next day so he stays in shape for the Kerberos mission. 

He had to be in top shape in order to lift off; all of them had to be. Their bodies needed to be able to withstand the harsh conditions of lift off, landing, and months in space with low gravity, even if the gravity was fairly strong for such a small moon. Even Matt and Commander Holt had to be in top shape for the mission, which was why Matt got his eyesight fixed beforehand. Most of the time though, if he isn’t imagining home he’s worrying about the future. 

They still had no clue where the Blue Paladin could be. They could literally be anywhere in the entire known universe, which was almost completely ruled by Zarkon. It could take years to liberate enough planets to actually make a difference, and still they might be unable to find a proper Paladin for the Blue Lion. 

Allura was a good leader. 

She knew how to make the hard choices, and she knew when to hand over control to someone else. Like when Shiro was leading Voltron and Blue actually let her in to pilot her. She was phenomenally versed in combat in various forms, and her shapeshifting ability could allow for some prime opportunities to bring the Empire to its knees to free the universe. She was also the only person in the universe at this point that could manipulate wormholes without it tearing the ship apart. 

Everyone else uses lightspeed to travel. 

And not only was she a good combatant and warrior, she was a great diplomat. It was how she was raised after all. As Princess and Heir, no doubt she was well versed in diplomatic skills that helped them gain numerous allies in the fight against Zarkon through the people they freed. Princess Allura would be a great paladin no doubt. 

But Blue refused. 

According to Allura, Blue was shutting her out because she already had her mind set on another to be hers. _That’s it._ No explanation as to why she opened that day on Earth. No clue as to who her chosen might be. Not even a reason as to why she won’t allow Allura to pilot her unless the other lions are in danger. And even then Blue has trouble handing over her reigns. The reactions to Allura being her pilot stumped them all. 

The first day Shiro, Keith, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Coran had met when Allura was assigning them their lions, she had stated the attributes of all the lions. The things that keyed them as the new Paladins of Voltron. 

The Black Lion is the head of Voltron. It requires a natural leader whose men (or women, no discrimination) will follow them without hesitation and is in control at all times. 

The Green Lion is inquisitive, adventurous, and needs a pilot of intellect and daring. Yeah, Pidge was daring all right. They get into the most dangerous situations just for the slimest piece of knowledge. _‘Because science Shiro!’_

The Yellow Lion is caring, kind, protective, and puts the needs of others above their own. It suits Hunk to a ‘t’. The big guy was always caring for the rest of them as best as he could manage. 

The Red Lion is tempermental, unstable, difficult to master, and relies on instinct more than skill. If Keith was fit for anything, it was the Red Lion. Him and Pidge were the most problematic of the team, always ending up in dangerous situations, either for the sake of science or the effect of anger. 

And then there’s the Blue Lion. The Blue Lion is the most confident, reliable, flexible, and trusting of all the Lions. It’s first instinct is to trust a person at face value. It’s also the most accepting of new Paladins and one of the easier lions to pilot because of this fact. 

So it makes no sense that Blue would refuse to allow Allura to be her pilot semi-permanently. In fact it should be the complete opposite. Blue should be perfectly fine to let Allura, or anyone really, pilot her. In theory at least. 

But suffice to say, Blue was stubborn. 

Hopefully whoever ends up being her paladin wasn’t as stubborn as her, or them and Keith would constantly butt heads. _Shiro only wished there was wood around to knock on._


	8. Lance in Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets attacked, Voltron saves the day.

Lance’s first contact with paladins after their first meeting did not go as planned. For one, Lance was mid battle. For two, Lance was alone, meaning crewless. For three, he was on the run from Galra. 

It was supposed to be a routine solo mission for Lance, one that handles his ‘special situation’. _His eye, he means his eye._ Lance had gotten information about an Olkari who had escaped their imprisoned planet to seek out help, hiding a couple of galaxies away. He had managed to track them down and get as far as having the Olkarion remove his mask to see what could be done for his eye, when they were attacked by the Galra. 

Both the Olkarion and Lance fled in different directions and Lance was currently on one end of a fire fight he hoped never to find himself in. The losing end to be precise. His ship was damaged, knocking out communications with his crew, who were too far away to help in time anyways. He couldn’t hold off the couple dozen fighters on his tail for long in this tiny ship and it had very little fire power in the first place anyways. 

Lance flipped his ship to the right, avoiding both a protruding rock from the planet surface and a hail of laser fire at the same time. He followed through the flip into a barrel roll and aimed for the atmosphere in order to get off this planet. His ship began to feel hot inside, sweat dripping off of him like a waterfall as the atmospheric pressure began to become too much for his little ship. 

If he makes it out of this alive, he giving his old girl a makeover. Starting with shields and guns. Lots of guns. 

He broke through the atmosphere with a hollar and quickly went about trying to fly away. A little under half of the fighters behind him burned up in the atmosphere, their hulls overheated just the slightest bit too much. Lance took the brief moment of freedom to grab his ECD, ready to call the Mermaid for some back up. Except they were far too far away at the moment. Lance thumbed through the list of operatives closest to him, a groan of frustration escaping when he realized no one was close enough for assistance. 

It made sense to be honest. 

This part of the galaxy was filled with toxic and barren wasteland planets, all of them uninhabited. _Why protect planets without natural lifeforms?_ Unless they could be used in some fashion, whether it be by the Galra or otherwise, no person or race would willingly go here. Unless you’re a fugitive looking for somewhere to hide. Lance glanced back at his screen again before rolling sharply to the right to avoid more laserfire. 

Just as Lance was about to grit his teeth and go to work trying to shake off his pursuers, he spotted a fairly recently added name, reading VOLTRON in all caps. He didn’t hesitate to contact them and took out two more fighters while he waited for them to accept. Live calls were trickier than simple messages. Unless the other person has accepted the call, there will be no contact. 

Depending on Galra signals nearby, the picture could be crystal clear or it could be fuzzy and hard to make out. Luckily for Lance, he had over a dozen fighters trying to gun him down who carried the Galra signals on each ship. For the time being his side of the connection will be great. Lance quickly executed a loop, winding up behind the front fighters long enough for the rear fighters to fire before he promptly dropped out of the kill zone. 

Three more fighters went down, leaving only a baker’s dozen left going after him. This couldn’t go on much longer though. Either someone would track him down through his eye due to the loose mask he quickly put back on before fleeing, or the fighters would call for backup. Lance really hoped not. 

His eyebrows creased, and he was beginning to feel fatigued. He had hardly slept on his journey to meet the Olkarion, too wired to get to him before he split and Lance lost him. Olkari were geniuses who could manipulate metal with a touch. His idea was to have the Olkari mess with his eye only just enough to disable the tracking device. 

That was all Lance wanted. But it seems luck truly does hate him after all. And to think he had thought him and Lady Luck were getting along lately. Lance briefly cursed in spanish when his reaction to a laser was slowed and his hull was damaged enough that Lance felt air escaping from a hole and quickly shut his helmet for oxygen. 

_“Lance?”_ Lance jumped in his seat, quickly dodging another spray of laserfire. He ignored them for a moment as he took the chance to plug up the hole in his ship. He always kept a sealant on his ships in case of damage like this, and he plugged the hole as quickly as possible, sprinting to his controls to take the ship out of its nose dive. Lance grunted as he pulled up harshly, the sounds of increasingly panic filled paladin voices filtering through his helmet. 

He felt his ship begin to enter orbit once more and pulled up even more, placing a foot on the console to keep himself steady. He could hear Hunk’s voice now, as well as Keith’s, joining in the chorus of Allura (which shocked him), Shiro and Pidge. _Come on, come on…._ Lance briefly let out a triumphant shout as he successfully left orbit and dashed as quickly as possible to freedom. 

Some of the fighters had followed him into the atmosphere and didn’t have enough chance to pull up like Lance before crashing into the surface. That left maybe seven fighters now. He was about to tell his friends not to worry, that he’s got it all under control, as he sat back into his seat heavily, before his smile slipped. 

In the distance was a Galra warship exiting lightspeed, and suddenly Lance was cornered by almost a hundred fighters. Keith’s fiery shout only drew his attention enough for a glance before he looked at his impending doom. 

“So guys,” Lance started. His voice was weak, full of false positivity. “Mind lending me a hand here? I’m currently cornered by an army of fighters and a Galra warship, and I’m on my own. If you could just wormhole your way to my coordinates, thanks.” He didn’t give them anything more than his coordinates before cutting transmission and severing his ECD’s wires. He slipped his stylus into his sleeve and prepared to be a prisoner again. Luck must truly despise him. _What did he ever do to her to deserve this?_

*********

Shiro’s heart was racing, his palms sweaty. Adrenaline was coursing through his body making him feel powerful, invincible. His helmet was on, his game face plastered harshly on his lips and eyes. Watching that video was heart wrenching. 

Lance, the same kid who had been both a happy go lucky kid and a sorrowful warning personified last he had seen him, was in full soldier mode. He had ignored their calls, an obvious struggle to pilot whatever ship he was on in full display. He had watched the calm settle over Lance once he sat back down. The tense lines of his lips softened, his eyebrows raised, a gentle smile of relief. 

Shiro had watched as that relief turned to outright horror as he and his friends tried to catch his attention. Shiro still wasn’t positive whether or not it was a live feed or just a message. He prayed for it to have been live, so they still had a chance to save him. 

He was just a kid. 

Shiro wrapped his hands around the Black Lion’s controls, his muscles tense as they launched into a wormhole. His stomach still twisted in knots every single time they did it. It was disorienting at first, moving via wormhole. One moment you’re in one place, the next you’re in another. His teeth ground against each other as the Black Lion’s control panel lit up, and a small set of screen showing his team had settled in their own lions in front of him. They were ready for battle, hoping to save Lance before the Galra took him. 

Or, Alfor forbid, he killed himself for the sake of the information in his head. 

Lance wouldn’t do that surely. He wouldn’t take the ultimate sacrifice unless there was a guarantee he was never going to be rescued. Maybe not even then. Lance was strong. He could handle being a prisoner. Right? Shiro was told he was strong all the time, and he had day-mares. Nightmares but during the day. Flashes of memory, of sensation, of pain. It wasn’t often that it happened, but it still shook him to his very core every single time it did. 

Shiro took in a breath as the forward moving feeling left his body and Allura was telling them to deploy over the comms. Shiro was the first one out of the Lion hangars. The sight before him, however, was one to make bile rise in his throat. Lance hadn’t been exaggerating. There was a veritable army in front of them, nothing too unusual for what Shiro and Voltron face all the time, but this was all up against one target. 

A target that stood out fairly well. 

This ship was next to nothing like Lance’s fighter jet. It was bulky, slow and damaged, but Lance was handling it good enough to still be going strong. That is until there was a small explosion on the back of his ship and suddenly Lance’s ship wasn’t moving. 

Dead in space, literally. 

Fighters converged on the ship and Shiro felt his throat close. A red blur passed him, Keith and Red jumping into the fray. Pidge and Hunk were close after and Shiro snapped out of his daze, jumping in as well. Shiro went straight for Lance, ordering his team to cover him while he got Lance. A gaping hole was in the side of the ship and Shiro immediately leapt out of Black, his visor down as he used his jetpack to get inside the ship. 

Broken metal and sizzling wires were everywhere around the hole and Shiro was glad this ship was about the size of the Lions’ cockpits. He quickly found Lance slumped over in his pilot chair and Shiro grabbed him. Lance was out cold. Shiro dragged Lance and himself into the Black Lion, relaxing as he saw a big hulking yellow lion on one side and a slim green one on the other guarding the two of them until they were in Black’s cockpit. 

He sat back at the controls, the panel lighting up and requested a wormhole escape from Allura. They all piled into the castle, the barrier shielding them from laser fire. Keith had disabled the ion cannon at least. 

“Passing through the wormhole now, strap in Paladins.” 

Shiro held Lance as that knotted feeling surged in his stomach once more.


	9. No Rest for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes, Voltron gets attacked.... again.

Waking up was normally a chore for Lance anyways. He slept like the dead, so he was used to waking up before going back to sleep at least three times before he finally got out of bed. But he had never felt so groggy and lethargic before. He felt his stomach drop as gravity pulled him downwards, and he prepared the best he could for the impact with the floor beside his bed. 

Except that moment never came. 

He was enveloped in a warmth he rarely feels nowadays in the vast cold of space and Lance sighed into it. Whatever was wrapped around him smelled like home almost. A soft, dry smell that Lance paired with sand peppered with the smell of sweat and metal. 

Perhaps Lance had another nightmare, it would explain the smell of sweat at least. Lance pulled open his eyes, blearily looking around him, only to find himself staring at a pair of black sleeves over an arm. He was awake now, his body tensing only briefly in warning to the person holding him captive. The brief warning was lost on whoever was holding him up however, and he took advantage of it. 

He swept out his leg, and hooked it around theirs, yanking whoever it was off balance as Lance simultaneously pushed his entire weight forward to knock them backwards. The both of them fell, Lance’s enemy going down with a surprised shout, and Lance quickly maneuvered it to where the enemy was falling face first. They crashed into the floor, Lance hitting his knees on the metal beneath him hard enough to bruise. He hooked his arm around the enemy and secured them in a tight headlock, then pulled back to choke them.

At this point Lance finally looked up to assess the probability to escape, and jolted in place. It wasn’t the Galra in front of him, nor the Unilu. Lance had gotten into some trouble with the space pirates once, the kind who actually earned their title. 

_Long story, big misunderstanding._

No it wasn’t them but the paladins, his friends. Lance was shocked enough his hold loosened and Shiro collapsed back to the ground in a coughing fit. He looked around bewildered, taking everything in. Keith was in a battle ready stance with a curious knife drawn and pointed at him. Pidge looked frazzled, her glasses slightly askewed. Hunk just looked sad, like he was about to cry. 

Allura was looking at him with a guarded expression and beside her was a man he had yet to meet face to face. It was the same one he had seen on the screen when he offered his help to the team. Lance blinked slowly, willing away the fatigue still plaguing his mind. He opened his mouth to apologize, or maybe ask how they were there. The last thing Lance remembered was a battle, and he was losing- 

“This isn’t a Galra prison cell.” He could barely speak through his cottonmouth. His words seemed to make half of them relax at least, excluding Allura and Keith. He blinked again and looked down at Shiro whose head was turned to the side, his coughing fit over with, and looking at Lance with one eyebrow raised. Lance took a moment to push himself to his feet and swayed briefly before leaning down to offer a hand to Shiro to help him up. Shiro grabbed it with his metal hand after a moment of hesitation. After they were all standing Lance looked around at everyone confused. 

“What happened?” Shiro’s eyebrows curled together in a frown, and his nose did the cutest little scrunch that wiggled his scar. It truly was unfair how beautiful all of the paladins were. Pidge would be even more beautiful if she would let Lance fix her ratchet haircut that looks like it was done in the dark with children’s scissors. Keith too actually, that mullet looks awful. And cute, but mainly awful. 

“Do you remember anything from before you were knocked out?” Shiro asked almost delicately. _Knocked out? Lance wasn’t_ -oh. He remembered now. The realization must have been clear across his face because at this point Keith put aways his curious knife and stepped up next to Shiro. His arms were crossed, head lowered just enough to look at Lance through the bangs of his mullet. He wonders if Keith knows just how attractive that look makes him. 

Lance almost winced from being reminded of the pain in his head, except he had no pain. Shiro said knocked out right? Meaning a person unconscious due to impact? If so, Lance was confuzzled, due to the fact that he feels no pain. He raised a hand to his head, creasing his eyebrows as he felt smooth skin over the right eyebrow where he had slammed his head into Ol’ Girl, his old ship he had been piloting for the mission. 

“Why don’t I feel bandages around my head?” 

He looked up from the floor and then whipped around when Pidge pointed at something behind him and said, “The healing pods healed you. It’s Altean tech that puts a person in stasis to heal their injuries naturally and at the same time faster than normal. Or at least that’s simplest way I can put it.” Lance eyed the open “pod” that was directly behind him curiously and then shrugged, accepting it at face value. 

“Sounds legit. Got any food? I’m starving.” He said before making his way into the hallway next to Hunk who had immediately grabbed him up in a hug Lance secretly cherished. There weren’t many opportunities to trust people in space enough to become physically comfortable with touching on both sides. Of course that was never a problem for Lance, trusting was easy the first time around and he was too outgoing to shy away from any kind touch he could get. It was when someone did something to make Lance lose his trust in them. 

Then it was hard to earn him back. 

If he trusted he trusted wholeheartedly, and if it’s broken once he knew better now not to trust quite so easily afterwards. The only reason he distrusted his crew as much as he did was because of an incident briefly after he got his masks. They had thought him weak, unworthy; they may have been freed from Galra by Lance (mostly) but that didn’t mean they were all innocent in the first place. They had tried to overthrow him, Thorak leading the charge. 

He had proved them wrong through a very heavy battle where it was Lance against his crew. He had incapacitated every single one of his crew members revolting against him and all without wounding them too bad. After that they followed him without question, but Lance did sometimes have to assert his authority. 

An arm squeezed around his shoulder and Hunk drew him out of his thoughts as they plopped down with plates of food goo. The two of them began without the others, starting plate two just as the others filed in for their own food. No one spoke for a few moments and when Lance glanced up from taking another bite, his mouth still dropped open ready for food, he noticed everyone was staring at him expectantly. 

Even Hunk, man after his own heart, light of his life, closest thing to a best friend he has ever had and that was only just through one meeting, was staring at him. 

Suddenly he wasn’t quite so hungry anymore. 

“Okay what?” Keith scoffed and it wasn’t lost on Lance when he rolled his eyes. 

“What the hell just happened? Why were you getting creamed by an army of Galra?” Lance sighed and put his fork down, officially put off for food. It was a shame really, he hadn’t eaten anything in the week spent going after that Olkarion. It wasn’t like that sector was exactly bursting with places to get food that wouldn’t kill him. 

“I was on a special solo mission for personal reasons. For some reason the Galra was looking for the same thing I was, but when they figured out who I was, well, things went downhill. It was originally just a couple dozen fighters, but then that warship showed up while I was trying to speak to you guys and the rest is history.” Lance raised his eyebrows asking silently if Mullet was satisfied and he was sufficiently subdued. Which left the floor open for the Princess to take over. She was glaring at him again, but then again when isn’t she? 

“What did this ‘mission’ entail exactly?” Lance wasn’t fond of that patronizing tone, but he had nothing to hide from these guys. He trusted them, so why not tell them? It was when Lance opened his mouth to speak though that alarms started blaring. They shocked Lance almost out of his chair, and all of his friends- and Allura, seeing as she currently hates his guts, so they probably weren’t friends- lept out of their seats and Lance followed them. 

It was clear they were under attack, but Ol’ Girl was useless. Pidge had told him briefly what state his ship was in, and it wasn’t battle ready, it wasn’t even ready to lift upwards an inch off the ground. She was shot, and probably scrap metal at this point. The Paladins all disappeared, probably to get into their lions. Everything was happening so fast he was almost disoriented. 

Scratch that, he was disoriented. 

It was odd being on this side of the battle. Usually he was stationary, still. Giving out orders as chaos rained around him, but staying in one general place. There may only be seven people on this ship but the Paladins rush around enough to make it feel like it was packed full of bodies. Meanwhile Lance had nothing he could do to help as the others raced out in four hulking lions, their images on screen as he, Allura and Coran watched from the bridge. The other two were coordinating everything. Allura was piloting the ship and Coran was providing back up through the castle’s defense. 

It was happening all over again, the first time they all met. 

Only this time Lance wasn’t the random person offering assistance to someone who were clearly outmatched. This time he was with the someone who needed help as they were outmatched. The Voltron Lions were extraordinary beasts of weapons. Thousands of years ago they had been used as a force to protect the universe, but they had disappeared into legend. 

He’s heard the stories. 

How those five lions could come together and take down an entire army with only Voltron and the Paladins of Old. It wasn’t what Lance was seeing now as he paced in two step increments, staying in his confined little space out of the way. He didn’t want to burden Allura, the woman already hated him. She was standing at the tele- _where did she go?_ Lance glanced around the room and realized it was just him and Coran. They hadn’t had much time to get to know each other, but he seemed far friendlier than Lance had expected. 

“Where’s the Princess?” Coran turned his head so that his eyes could stay on the controls in front of him, but had one ear pointed at Lance in acknowledgement of the question. His answer came out distractedly as he was a little busy. 

“She’s probably in the Blue Lion’s hangar my boy.” Lance didn’t stop to relish in the warmth of those words washing over him. It was exactly what his father called him when the man wanted to be affectionate. Usually though they were far too in public and he was a respected commander of the Garrison who needed to keep up appearances. 

_My boy, how was your day at school? Working hard I hope._

Lance swallowed the burning in throat and blinked as he left to track Allura down. They were getting beat up in the middle of a battle, what was she thinking?


	10. Allura's Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura reflects.

Allura’s heart was pounding, thumping out a pattern against her chest. Her Paladins were in danger, her castle under attack, and there was a male on her ship that for some reason Allura had this burning distrust for. It was ironic how much she distrusted Lance. All of her Paladins had formed some sort of bond with this Lance except her. 

Hunk had deemed them best friends from the start, and Pidge was always making this expression when he came up that confused Allura to no end. It was soft, and unguarded, yet completely unreadable to Allura. Normally the Green Paladin, Pidge, was constantly wearing this face that made Allura think she had grown up far too fast. The hard curl of her lips, the way she used her glasses as a shield, and the general disinterested voice that made Allura feel small. 

_Oh Princess of what?_

It had been blunt and hurtful and rude, and at the same time completely understandable and even true. And then there was Keith. Allura had believed at first the only person he could truly, actually care for was Shiro. It made sense, in her mind of course. He was shut off, always distancing himself from the others, training so much he reminded her of her father. 

King Alfor may have been very outgoing and charming, but the man was always avoiding the paperwork that a King has to do by shutting himself in the training room with his sword. Only emerging when his skin was dripping sweat and he was so exhausted that if he tried to do paperwork he fell asleep at the desk. Unlike Pidge, her father had a very hard time sleeping anywhere that wasn’t soft. 

Which made for far away Voltron missions fairly difficult. It was what prompted her father to build into the lions the little beds tucked away in the lion. Allura had been thoroughly entertained as he tried to convince the other lions to let him in so he could do the same for the other Paladins. But then she had spotted Keith quietly lounging around Pidge and Hunk while they did their little projects. 

Keith would polish his bayard sword, and the other two would work on whatever had their interest for the time being. She had once heard Pidge exclaim angrily at something in varying curses in Altean and English. She didn’t want to know who taught her those more vulgar curses than ‘quiznack’. In response Keith would chuckle or help her with whatever was bugging her, usually making things worse but sparking ideas in Pidge’s oversized head hole full of knowledge. 

With Hunk, Keith was usually eating the snacks he makes while he was making them, which usually had Hunk chuckling as he smacked Keith’s hand away with his spoon. Even Shiro had been quickly satisfied that Lance was trustworthy after only a few minutes. Allura was positive it happened about the same time Lance hit on her for the first time. 

Even Coran likes Lance, and they hadn’t even properly met! So why? Why was it that Allura felt so wary of him? Keith had strong instincts, so Allura could trust his initial feelings towards a person to tell if they are trustworthy, but she still just felt distrustful. Everything about that feeling made no sense. 

Alteans had prided themselves as searching for peace first, the Paladins and Coran- who Allura trusted with her life- all trusted Lance, and the man himself had given her no reason so far to be distrustworthy. Allura sighed and gazed up at the Blue Lion. She had her particle barrier up, which was a normal thing. Allura placed her hand on the barrier and pushed, knowing that her Paladins were in trouble. And then pushed again, throwing her body into it. Her teeth clenched and frustration over a hundred things bubbled up and spilled over once and for all. 

“Why won’t you open already!?” Her fist hit the barrier hard, making her skin throb. 

“Open! Up! I! Am! Begging! You!” Allura accented each word she yelled with another pound of her fist. Nothing changed and she let out a scream of frustration as she went to strike one last time at the barrier. She never got the chance to however, because suddenly Lance was beside her, holding her wrist in one hand and holding the other up in a placating gesture. 

“Whoa, ‘kay. What’s wrong?” His voice didn’t sound like he was after something that could endanger her paladins, so why does she feel such distrust? Was it just Allura, or was there reasoning behind it? Was it valid, her hatred? Allura felt enough doubt at the idea that she actually spilled everything to Lance before she could stop herself. 

“What’s wrong is it’s my job to stop Zarkon,” Allura tuned to glare at the Blue Lion, her wrist still held firmly in Lance’s hand. His skin was warm through her armor. 

“But this giant piece of scrap metal is worse than Red!” She faced Lance again, slowly losing steam the longer she meets his eye (he still wore the mask). 

“The Paladins need my help and the only way I can help is through the Blue Lion, but her stubbornness is almost as bad as the Red Lion’s who is actually known for being stubborn and temperamental. I’m useless without the Blue Lion.” 

Allura finished off in a whisper, hating herself for the slight tears that forms in her eyes. She was crying, and in front of Lance no less! She never cries! Her vision swam as her head was yanked up sharply to meet a piercing stare. _Lance had blue eyes that matched the color of the Blue Lion…._

“Don’t ever say that again Allura. You are the only thing leading the war closer to victory. The Resistance, the Blade, the rebel cells of the Galra Empire, we all do our part to overthrow Zarkon’s tyranny, but we barely put chinks into his armor. Voltron has only been around for a few months at best and already Zarkon’s forces are weakening. Voltron may be the super weapon, and the Paladins the pilots, but you are the heart of Voltron. The sword and shield and mind and soul. You. It doesn’t matter if you’re the Blue Paladin, or the Black Paladin, or just another member of the Resistance. The only reason those people you call Paladins are fighting so hard is because of you. Don’t insult their loyalty by saying something like that ever again Princess.” 

Allura felt her heart warm, and a tear slipped past her defences. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She was genuinely confused as she stared at Lance. Something in his face softened, and he smiled at her sweetly. The hand gripping her wrist loosened slowly and he lowered there hands as he slid his hand to hold hers. It distiantly amused her that both of their hands were long and slim and soft, with calluses on their fingertips and palms. He covered her hand with both of his and she wanted to cry at the gentle gesture. 

She was always the hard faced general of a ten thousand long war to everyone here, even if it felt as if just months ago when she last saw her father face to face. Nobody was this gentle with her except Coran, and even he never stepped past the boundary as her advisor and mentor. It felt like she was a girl again with her mother’s soft hands holding hers. Allura blinked out another tear and one of those hands went to her face to wipe her tears. The fingers were ghostly against her skin. 

“I’m being nice, because it’s against my nature to be mean to a woman and, in all honesty, I don’t care if you are mean to me. If you give me the chance to be friends with you I will gladly take it.” Allura looked into his gaze and almost broke down right then. But Lance gave her a smile like ones her family gave her that made her interpret it as saying _‘buck up, time to get to work kiddo’._ She steeled herself and reigned in her tears. Lance smiled once more and she smiled back, the last of her tears drying on her cheeks or wiped away. 

“There’s that smile.” Lance stepped back and released her hand, and suddenly she remembered where she was and who she was. Embarrassment reddened her ear tips. 

“Now,” Lance began. 

“Instead of banging on her barrier like a beast,” His voice was teasing so she took no offence. 

“Why don’t you try knocking?” Lance smiled at her and knocked twice on the barrier, leaning against it. His face was telling her to _‘try it like that’._ Allura watched as the barrier fell and Lance slipped through the barrier and plopped on the ground. Her breath caught as Blue sent out a general message like all Lions do when they meet their true paladins and Allura smiles. Lance stands up and rubs his side in a grumbling fashion. 

“What the heck?” Allura ignored whatever a ‘heck’ was and just looked at Lance in awe and relief. She no longer had to fight the Blue Lion just to pilot her for a few minutes. She could relax now that she no longer had the fact of the Blue Paladin to worry over on top of everything else. Lance was the Blue Paladin. _Lance was the Blue Paladin._

Allura smiled even broader. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Lance said as he turned to look at her. his face was narrowed in suspicion. Allura released a breath, more tears gathering in her eyes, this time in pride and happiness. 

“You are the Blue Paladin Lance.” He froze and stared at her and she almost jumped with glee at this news. 

“I think you need to suit up and go help out your new team lance. They need you,” Allura paused as she settled her hands on his shoulder. “Paladin.” 

This time it was Lance who was breathless and wide eyed with confusion.


	11. Come Along Why Don't You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguments, alien orgies, and super moms. (It's not what you think I swear.)

It was like Lance was floating in the background of his own mind. He vaguely recalls putting on the Blue Paladin armor, the white almost obnoxious compared to his usual deep blue. Vaguely recalls Allura shoving him into Blue’s opened mouth, him sitting in the pilot seat. Which, for the record, was suspiciously perfectly fit for his long legs.

The blur of charging into battle, of hearing Allura explain that Lance was the new Blue Paladin. Of hearing questions being thrown around in between destroying the Galra that dared to attack them. Answers following right after. He could vividly remember the feeling though. Adrenaline rush like never before. Giddiness and excitement. And Blue, the feeling of her in the back of his mind.

A calming presence, kind of cold, but soothing. Like the ocean on a gentle summer morning, not quite freezing but not warm either. He could feel her waters lapping at his heels, her consciousness right there at the edge of his own. It was all blurry except for the emotions, both his own and Blue’s, filling his chest. All of it blew past him like a freight train until the moment Lance and Blue docked in her hangar. He must have taken a few minutes too long to leave her pilot seat, because the others were walking up to him just as he stepped out of Blue’s mouth.

Hunk was the first one there, sweeping Lance up into a hug like he was a rag doll. Lance loved every second of it. Then it was Pidge, who grabbed onto his waist and clutched him tight. It reminded him of the kind of hugs his little siblings would do. Latch onto his waist and grip the life out of him. Keith simply fist bumped Lance while Shiro clapped him hard on the shoulder, Lance almost crumbling forward from the force of it. And then Hunk latched onto him again, big tears falling over his cheeks. He laughed and hugged Hunk back.

They walked towards the dining room where Allura and Coran were waiting, Hunk filling the collective silence with babbled chatter. It wasn’t until they were walking up to two smiling Alteans and taking their seats that Hunk said something that caught Lance’s attention real fast.

“I think you should get the room next to mine so we can be like, right next to each other you know? That way we can walk to breakfast together and walk to bed beside each other. Man it is going to be so awesome with another person on board because if you ask me this ship is far too lonely with only six-” Lance stopped short, his head snapping up to Hunk’s. It seemed to snap Hunk out of his word vomit and he turned to look at him with a look of confused concern.

“Lance? What’s wrong?” Allura said as she leaned forward. She was no longer in battle gear like the rest of them and was instead wearing her usual princess dress. Her hands were folded in front of her all demure like, which really offset the fact that she could probably throw Lance across the room like a football. With one hand. He wouldn’t put it past her to be able to do something like that honestly.

Lance pursed his lips into a frown. Dread curled in his stomach as he realized what they expected of him. Stay? Here? Lance would rather sacrifice himself into a pit of lava then put that kind of danger on his friends, especially now when things were so crazy.

He couldn’t stay.

“I’m not staying.” Lance declared with a frown. Keith crossed his arms defiantly, making his arms flex and a fire of both attraction and competitiveness rise up in Lance.

“What are you talking about? You can’t leave, you’re a paladin now. You belong here.” Keith fired back. Lance raised an eyebrow. Keith was right, Lance did belong here, for now at least, but that didn’t mean he was staying. Until his whole tracker situation was sorted out, he couldn’t stay. Perhaps he could see if Pidge could do something about it, but right now he had bigger concerns. Like why the hell the Empire keep sending full armies after just Lance and no one else. It’s what he assumed must be happening, what with the whole fugitive Olkari thing.

True, he told the team that it was _after_ they realized who Lance was that the fleet came after him, but that was a tiny lie. None of the fighters even chased the Olkari. He didn’t want to tell the team until he had evidence of the truth. No sense in worrying them and sending Allura’s cold glares to ice. Though to be fair, ever since they had their moment in front the Blue Lion she was kind of awkwardly nice. Not quite as friendly as Hunk or any of the others, but definitely nicer. Maybe she didn’t know how to be friends with him yet. Either way Lance wasn’t going to worry her.

It just made no sense why a fully capable battalion of Galra came after him for no reason. Last he checked the Empire wasn’t that concerned with his escape. Sure, at first it was hell, entire fleets coming after him, much like today, but things have cooled down since then. Not that Lance would take the chance of removing the mask for long periods of time anyways.

“I’m leaving.” Lance said again, as he tuned back into the conversation. Shiro leaned forward across the table with concern creasing his eyebrows.

“We understand it’s a big change for you but-” Shiro said. Lance cut him off before he could finish, shaking his head sadly.

“I can’t stay here with you guys.” Lance practically whispered. Hunk was crying again, this time more from hurt than from overwhelming emotions.

“Why not?” Pidge chimed in, sounding hurt as well. Lance looked down at Pidge, and felt crushed at the look on her face. She concealed it well considering, but the crushed betrayal was clear as day on her face. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her voice was choked up from emotion. His heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Maybe he could compromise a little.

“Don’t cry Pidge. I just have to do some things first that’s all. I’ll come back when they’re done.” Lance said, laying a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t we help you with said things then my boy?” Coran said, settling a hand on Lance’s shoulder gently. His eyes were creased at the corners, reminding Lance of his abuelita. He shook his head and looked away from them all, down at the table instead, feeling his chest clench.

“I can’t let you do that. The things I’ll be doing,” He trailed off. “I don’t want you guys to see that part of me. Besides, it’s personal, and it’s dangerous. When you guys saved me earlier, that was part of it. And look how that turned out, attacked by Galra twice in one day. I can’t drag you all into my personal problems.” Lance said. Shiro crossed his arms, the movement almost threatening in comparison to Keith’s defiance.

“We want to help you Lance, you’re not going into this alone. It’s too dangerous.” Shiro said back to him. They stared each other down. Shiro’s dark eyes facing off with Lance’s ocean blue. Keith muttered angrily off to the side. Shiro spared a quick silencing stare at Keith before settling his hands on the table. The move was so deliberate Lance glanced closer at the way Shiro sat with slightly narrowed eyes. 

His posture was perfect- soldier straight.

Both his human and Galra arms settled flat on the table as he leaned forward with his hands laced together loosely. It almost looked like Shiro was slumped over the table but those broad, strong shoulders gave everything away, even under his Black Paladin armor. The tense muscles, the slight pull of them backwards, the way they were rolled back made his chest almost puff out like superman.

Shiro was attempting to intimidate him.

Lance doubted he realized it himself, but the move was so animal like it brought back a slew of awful memories. Ones from the arena. Sometimes Lance forgets that Shiro so obviously spent time in the arena until he does these small subtle movements that can be so powerful in the arena. Weakness is death. Lance rose to the challenge and leaned backwards. He crossed his arms just enough to show off his own muscles. He wasn’t as big as Shiro, he doubted most humans were as buff as Shiro and can make it look so natural.

His face settled into a blank expression Lance has actually practised before back on Earth. He called it his “Innocent until proven guilty” face. Calm, blank, daring. He used it on his mother constantly to get out of trouble. Sometimes it actually worked on her (mother’s intuition does not count as proving this face a fail).

“I’m going alone.” Lance’s voice cut like a knife and suddenly the atmosphere thickened. No one else dared to join in, not even Keith or Allura. This was between Shiro, head of Voltron, and Lance, Captain of the Mermaid and Blue Paladin. Shiro raised an eyebrow. How the man could have such on fleek eyebrows and eyeliner while in space was ridiculous. These people were too beautiful for their own good.

“We’re going with you.” Shiro said. Lance raised his eyebrow right back, feeling foolish seeing as it doesn’t pack as much power as Shiro’s does. So unfair. And why were they getting so serious over this? Shiro doesn’t even _know_ what he’s wanting to follow Lance into. What if Lance was going to a super huge alien orgy? What would he do then? Allura is too royal to be seen in such a place, Keith would be confused and horrified. Shiro would be awkward, and Pidge is just a _child. She's only, like, eight!_ And Hunk, oh poor Hunk, he would be scarred for the rest of his life.

No telling how Coran would react.

All because of Shiro’s stubbornness. Lance wiped the thoughts out of his mind so as to keep from laughing.

“You’re not coming with me Shiro.” He said. Shiro leaned back this time and crossed his arms. He looked far too smug for a standoff. Lance hated how attractive it was. _So unfair._

“Watch me.” Shiro said lowly.

_Un- fucking- fair dammit!_

Lance narrowed his eyes in a glare that could rival his mother’s. She had this way of angling her features just right to intimidate the living hell out of anyone. She once used this talent of hers to stare down a Garrison Officer for insinuating that Lance would flunk his tests. The man had been almost seven feet tall, 350 pounds of pure bulky muscle, and was ranked as one of the highest officers in his regiment; the man had cowered like a beaten puppy and apologized.

Mama doesn’t speak English.

The man hadn’t spoken Spanish.

Mama had derived that the man was dissing her son’s skills just by looks and tone, and the few words she actually could understand. Lance had forever vowed to call her super mom because of this.


	12. Wanted: Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Momma Marva and Lance's bounty.

Lance was pouting in full force. Bottom lip stuck out, hunched shoulders, a ‘woe is me’ look on his face, the whole shebang. Turns out his ‘glare that could rival his mother's’ needed more work. So here he was now. He was in the middle of a famous black market planet with three people at his back sticking out like sore thumbs. He had decided to make his least dangerous trip with the Paladins, so that nothing was too big for them to handle. Paladins they may be, but they were on the good side of morality, while Lance was… not quite.

They were still near the pod they had taken planetside, the castleship hidden on the closest moon. In front of them laid the entirety of a very dangerous market and he had _three people gawking behind him._ Lance could understand Shiro and Hunk tagging along. Shiro was the leader, and Hunk was a fairly big guy, so he would ward off too much attention. But Allura tagging along was not what Lance would deem wise. 

Allura, the Princess of her destroyed race who were the original opposition to Zarkon’s terror, should not be here. If anyone found out just who she is and what race she is, then people could make a fortune just off a strand of her _hair._ She had been even more adamant than Shiro though, and in the end she won in the battle of wills. 

Coran had stayed with the ship, and Pidge and Keith were inside the pod as backup. Those two were the only ones wearing Paladin armor, whereas Shiro, Hunk and Lance were wearing Earth clothes from that space mall. (Shiro is still unimpressed by how they were all chased out of the mall while riding on top of a cow). Allura was wearing her usual dress like she wears when she isn’t in the midst of the fight. Lance had his and Hunk’s bayard in his green jacket, and his two pistols strapped to his thigh. Allura had a whip that coils around her wrist like a bracelet, and Shiro’s arm was it’s own weapon apparently- Lance had yet to witness it in action.

He turned back to look at the market in front of them, rubbing the back of his hand. He had to find a shop to get less exotic clothing for them all, or at least a cloak.

He looked around and practically beamed when he spotted a sign that read _BIG MOMMA’S_ in English- also known as the Common Tongue coincidentally. Lance gestured for his friends to follow him and made a beeline for the shop. They entered in a line, the shelves full of random trinkets and items almost too small for Hunk to move around.

Lance followed after his friends, Shiro going in first to scan for threats, then Hunk, then the Princess and lastly himself. He squeezed past his friends and stepped up to the counter, glancing around for ‘Big Mama’. Her name was Marva, but people called her Big Mama because she was a loyal marketeer to her customers, so those who aren’t exactly on the friends list of the Galra trust her. 

She wasn’t in immediate lines of sight so Lance leaned forward onto the counter and began ringing the bell continuously. He leaned his head on his propped up fist with a smile as he heard something crash to the ground followed by a list of cursing from Marva herself in a different language. From the back room came a woman that at first glance looked like a busty human black woman.

The only problem was her skin had this gleam to it that only dark metals could achieve back on Earth. Her nails were half an inch long, pointed and hard like diamonds. Her teeth could shift between flat like a human’s and pointed like a shark’s at will, and were currently flat and non threatening. Lance smirked as she glared at him nastily as he continued to ring the little bell. After maybe three seconds of ringing she snatched up the bell and huffed at him. Lance laughed light heartedly.

“Boy you best have a good excuse for making Mama worry about your sorry behind.” Lance nodded and spread his arms in a gesture to the confused friends of his behind him. He felt Shiro step closer as if to be ready for an attack.

“I made friends.” He said. Marva scowled and hurled the bell at Lance who caught it without even trying. He set it back on the counter and dinged it one last time for good measure. Marva huffed out a breathy little laugh and yanked Lance over the counter for an awkward hug. Lance had tried to teach her the finer points of a hug, since her species were the opposite of pack oriented but she was still having trouble grasping how and when to hug. 

Marva let Lance go and she leaned on the counter, her hand propped up to hold her chin. That was another of many human mannerisms she picked up from Lance. She had a special soft spot for him, so she made every effort to humanize herself for his comfort.

“So what do you need boy? You really shouldn’t be coming around these parts anymore. Not that I don’t appreciate the company.” Marva said, leaning in close. She didn’t actually have hair fibers like humans did, just that same metallic skin formed in the design of hair. 

“What do you mean I shouldn’t be coming around these parts anymore?” He asked. Marva leaned backwards, and even without the distinct creases of the human face for expressions to be read, Lance could see her worry clear as day.

“You haven’t heard boy?” Marva said, her voice rumbling slightly from her natural accent. Lance tilted his curiously, and Marva sighed- another human mannerism she picked up from Lance. “You best come to the back before anyone sees you and your friends. Don’t want trouble coming after you here of all places. Bad for business, bad for health.” 

Lance nodded and waved his friends behind him to follow, despite the concerned looks he was getting from Shiro and Allura. They were uncomfortable and unsure of Marva, but Lance trusted this woman with his life. She had been the one to nurse him back to health before he joined the resistance. 

The back of the store was a little more spacious than the front, and Lance could hear Hunk’s audible sound of relief when he could walk normally, if not a small bit hunched. Shiro fell to the rear, trusting Lance to lead them for the moment, as he contacted Keith, Pidge and Coran. The crackle of voices in his ear made Lance go back to his early resistance days, before he was given a rank and command. 

Marva led them all to the little lounge she kept in the back for ‘special customers’. Lance sprawled onto the single chair beside Marva, letting his friends settle onto the couch. Allura was in between Shiro and Hunk, looking regal even as she was squished tightly. Lance got comfortable while Marva muttered to herself in her native tongue. When Lance had first heard her speak it had made him thought she was speaking spanish, but he understood nothing. 

When Marva finally pulled up what she was look for on her holoscreen- not to be confused with a holo computer- she handed it to Lance. To be simple, a holo screen is like an Earth touch pad, and a holo computer was like a laptop, but they were both sort of upgraded and improved from Earth tech. After a brief moment of hesitation as to what was on the video pulled up and ready to play, he leaned forward and started the video. 

Not even two seconds in and Lance’s blood had run cold with fear. It started with the image of Zarkon himself, scarred face and all, just like Lance remembered from the arena that day. He was saying something, but the video was muted to the blood running in his ears. He was saying a bunch of bullshit about the newest number one on the Empire’s wanted list. Lance knew it was bullshit because of the next picture that was pulled up.

A picture of Lance before his escape from the arena was pulled up. His hair was shoulder length then, and this was right after they had taken his eye. There was still a bandage over his eye, and Lance felt his heart stop as they showed the picture of him. He was chained up, wearing the general prisoner clothing. Lance had lunged forward and was screaming at the druids behind the screen, fists bloodied and clenched.

His skin pale, and face sunken in from malnutrition. A nasty bruise was framing his left cheek bone and his lip was split, blood running over his chin. Despite the pitiful state Lance had been in he still wore that look of rage and defiance. Tears were falling from his good eye. After a moment a new picture of Lance was brought up. 

One from a fighter jet or something. 

His lips were pulled into a cruel smirk and his eye was covered with the mask he wears now. His teeth gleamed in the reddish light of his fighter, or a fighter of some kind. He must have been mid battle at this point, probably winning. Lance no longer looked malnourished, and his skin looked normal if not a little lacking in the sun department. Lips weren’t chapped, no visible injuries, not even visible scars from his life of a Resistance member.

And Lance has lots of scars.

Mainly across his body, but he did have a few small facial scars too. A thin line cutting the edge of his left eyebrow off. A missing little chunk of his right ear. A little tiny scratch of a scar underneath his right eye. A thin one slashed on his cheek, covered up by his mask. Lance had plenty of minute scars on his face, but he looked fresh outta the oven in this picture.

The picture was taken at just the right moment and with just the right lighting, and at just the right angle to make Lance look intimidating, scary. Dread filled Lance’s stomach at the image, the very idea that he was now the most hunted man in the Empire, without even realizing it until now. 

_Is that why Galra have just been coming after him one after another lately?_

Apparently some rumors have sprouted up out of the woodwork. They were all equally outrageous, and equally as condemning for him. Lance single handedly freeing a Balmera and healing it- which was something Team Voltron did before Lance met them. Lance owning a new awe inspiring weapon and a crew to pilot it- that was probably Voltron and the Paladins. 

Lance being the _leader_ of the _Resistance._

This was bad.

“Well,” Hunk said, drawing Lance’s attention, his voice too high and shaky for such a big guy. “This is probably a very bad thing huh?”

_No fucking kidding, Hunk, thank you for stating the obvious._


	13. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance shows off his abilities.

Lance was never one to run away from a fight, not unless his chances of surviving were zero to none. He believed that there was always another way. Another way to smuggle these weapons, another way to get around this Galra patrol, another way to escape imprisonment. There was always another way. So this… situation... of his was no different.

_There was always another way._

Lance just had to keep repeating his mantra in the back of his mind and stay focused on the task at hand. Said task, of course, was finding out just how many of his contacts has dropped him or decided they want to come for the bounty on his head. _Let them come._ Lance will show them exactly why people were afraid and awed by him.

The ship was going through a series of wormhole jumps over the next few days, so that Lance could get to the nearest Resistance base. If the Resistance was still on his side, things could still be just fine. He just needs to confront the council of higher ups. In the meantime, Lance was making himself at home in the castle.

Hunk, after worrying like a mother hen over him in case he went into a mental breakdown, had given him a full tour of the castle. For as big as the ship actually was, it was still uncanny just how unused the place felt. It wasn’t surprising, there were only six people, seven if you count Lance, aboard the ship. Hunk had said that the team frequented only a few places on board.

The dining room was one of them where they had their meals, as well as the bridge where Allura could be found most days. The observation deck was one of Shiro’s frequent spots on offtime, and Lance would no doubt be right there most nights as well. There was also the lion hangars, kitchen, and the rooms.

All of the Paladins slept down the same hallway, and Lance claimed the free room across from Hunk and beside Keith. It was about the same size of a Garrison dorm room from as far as he could recall. The last place he was shown was the training room and training room control deck.

It was occupied by Keith and Shiro, who were full on sparring while everyone else watched. Allura and Coran could vaguely be recognized through the darkened glass of the control room half a story above them, and Pidge was sitting on the sidelines fiddling with a chunk of metal and wires that would no doubt be turned into some interesting new invention or something.

Lance stood next to them and crossed his arms to watch the match. Keith and Shiro seemed to be in the middle of it, or perhaps towards the ending of the spar. Keith had his hair pulled back in a low ponytail that set Lance’s blood pumping, dripping with sweat. The strands of hair that couldn’t be contained was plastered to his cheeks, violet eyes narrowed. He wore the cutest little twist on his lips that made Lance feel as if he was looking at a disgruntled wrinkly puppy.

Shiro was in much the same state.

His white forelock, usually fluffy and soft looking, was damp with sweat. Shiro had pushed it backwards, and two thick clumps stuck up wildly while the rest looked gelled backwards. Keith was wielding a red and white sword, launching across the training room floor wildly against Shiro, who only fought back with his prosthetic arm.

And Shiro was winning.

The spar didn’t last long after Lance and Hunk arrived, and Shiro won in a landslide. Both men moved so fluently, like they were dancing. The kind of chemistry these two held was astounding, attesting to their unique bond. Was it like this with all of the paladins, or just them two?

Lance tilted his head to the side and brought a hand up to pick at his lip. These people may be Lance’s friends, but they barely knew anything about each other.

Hunk and Pidge were now both seated on the floor beside each other. Pidge was sitting with her legs crossed, leaning towards Hunk and whispering in his ear, and Hunk was holding the chunk of metal and wires. He looked concentrated and focused as he nodded along to whatever they were talking about, and his large body was hunched over the thing as if to protect it.

Keith and Shiro had just finished their little match, and they both seperated, Shiro patting Keith on the shoulder as he went to get water. Keith looked around briefly, and after locking eyes on Lance, stalked over with a water of his own to stand by Lance.

They didn’t say anything for a moment, before Keith looked over at him from beneath his loose hair. It was still in the low ponytail. It truly was unfair just how beautiful these people are.

“So, did Hunk give you a tour?” The question was low toned, almost reluctant, and Lance nodded, keeping his voice low just as much.

“Yeah, I think this was our last stop.” Keith didn’t respond very quickly but Lance didn’t mind. Some people just needed a few extra moments to speak. After a minute or two of just standing around, Lance still picking at his lip, Keith went to say something but Shiro walked back to the center of the room, and drew Lance’s attention with a wave. Lance nodded his apology and departure to Keith, and stepped up to Shiro.

“What’s up?” Lance asked. Shiro tilted his head with a smile, worry still creasing his brow.

“Would you like to try out the training system?” Lance raised his eyebrows before glancing down at his outfit. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit used for training.

He was wearing his casual jeans and t-shirt, along with the green jacket, but underneath the shirt he was wearing his black thermal suit, which regulates body temperature and other science-y things of that nature, not unlike the Paladin bodysuits, as well as his silver breastplate he’s had since before Voltron. His twin pistols were strapped to his thighs in leather holsters. Lance looked back at Shiro and shrugged his consent.

“Why not?” _Might as well burn off some steam right?_ Shiro ran his human hand through his hair, making the forelock stick up even worse than before. It was such an adorable look for such a powerful man.

“If you’re sure about it, Allura just wanted to get you started on your Paladin training.” Shiro explained as he crossed his arms loosely across his chest, his stance vaguely reminiscent of a soldier’s. “She’s kind of strict about that sort of thing, and she needs to see your skills first to be able to teach you properly.”

Lance assured him it was fine with a winning smile, and after a brief hesitance, left to gather the other paladins and speak to Allura.

Shiro told him to get prepared while he took everyone else into the control room, taking note to choose something for guns as a simulation. Lance didn’t even know what he meant, but he was a quick adaptor. Lance was in the middle of taking off his jacket when a booming voice sounded around him. He was so shocked he immediately drew his pistol and aimed it all around the empty room. His pulse was jacked up from the surprise.

“Lance calm down, it's just a speaker system.” Lance relaxed, his jacket still awkwardly bunched in the crook of his elbows. That voice was unmistakably Allura, the soft accent making her sound almost British. Then again, she always sounded British to Lance. He re-holstered his weapon and took his jacket off the rest of the way as she explained what was going to happen. His black suit was visible at his collar where the shirt drooped and at his arms where the sleeves stopped.

Lance tugged at his shirt wondering if he should just take it off as her voice surrounded him. Basically she would start the training sequence at level one, and as every level was cleared the difficulty would rise. Lance needed to last as long as he could, and when things got too difficult he would only have to call out the trigger words ‘end training sequence’.

The levels would move on automatically and Allura and the other's would observe from upstairs in the control room. Lance did a couple of basic stretches, mostly with his arms seeing as his legs are naturally very flexible. He pulled his pistols out one at a time to check the plasma levels. The guns weren't infinite in ammo, they required plasma clips, like clips for actual guns. They looked about half way full so Lance went to his discarded jacket and grabbed the four extra clips from it and stuffed them beneath his suit sleeves.

Once satisfied he cracked his knuckles and neck and yelled up at Allura to begin.

His feet were shoulder width apart, his right foot forward, knees bent slightly and back curved as if he was hunching. His hands were at his sides and his uncovered ear twitched when the whirring began. He realized the whirring was from a bunch of tiny spherical drones as they were floating in circles around him, rising up from the floor.

Lance’s curiosity, like the kind that killed the cat, made him loosen from his battle ready stance. He reached out a hand to touch the little flying drones, exclaiming in excitement. The drone drifted away, and Lance tried again. He felt so embarrassed at how fascinated he was with the drones, but he just wanted to look at them close up. The drones kept darting from Lance’s fingers, and he shouted in frustration.

“Come. Here.” Lance said. He leaped and finally got a hold of one of the drones and called out in victory, raising it above his head like it was a trophy. “I got it!” He yelled. “Look I caught-OW!”

The drone fired a laser at Lance’s palm, making his hand burn underneath his glove.

That pissed him off, and clutching his injured hand, Lance drew a pistol out with his good hand, the right one. His hand hurt like hell, even though it was more of a carpet rash than a burn, but carpet rashes hurt like a bitch okay? 

Without hesitation, due to his anger, Lance began shooting evenly and precisely. The round was ended quickly, but Lance knew better then to try playing with the drones again. It was exactly like that time Lance had been playing with a sting ray and he grabbed the tail, despite his mother’s countless warnings.

_That hurt like a bitch too._

The next level was amped up just a little, and so was the next. Up until level three he had hardly broke a sweat and hadn't even drawn his second pistol. He had to get a little more active in his movements of course but that was expected. At level four, just before it began, Lance shucked off his shirt, leaving him in his black suit and jeans and breastplate.

His breathing was hitched now, erratic. His shots were faster and the bots were more aggressive. Lance finished off that level with a single shot striking his shoulder. Another carpet burn. He sucked in a breath and ran his hand holding his pistol through his hair as his other reached down to draw his second.

The sixth level went by fairly easily with his twin pistols and his movements were more stationary this time. His breath came faster, blood pumped harder. His guns fired off shot after shot. His body twisted to avoid the lasers. Lance was feeling an ache settle in his arms from holding his guns up for so long.

It was exhilarating.

Level seven was when Lance began his real show. For days at a time, no matter where he was, Lance would practice badass tricks with his pistols, any chance he got. During training or otherwise. During battle or missions or in the middle of the night when his mind would drift. When his dreams were bad, filled with wide inhuman eyes, and pain at his wrists and blue liquid spreading and spreading and _spreading..._

Lance felt himself jerk from another laser striking him, this time in his left calf, and focused back to the present. He just wanted to show off, not reminisce the bad things. So Lance let it all go with a slow smirk as he did the first twirl of his guns. Another flip, and another spin. Lance felt his chest get giddy as he began using his guns like he was in some badass anime.

But the level ended too soon.

His chest heaved as he readied for the next level and he shifted into a more fluid stance. The next level began with the same fast whirring. Up the bots came from the floor. Rotating in circles, surrounding him nearly completely except for below his feet.

Lance didn't even bother warming up to his little tricks anymore. He felt his body turn to water as he moved perfectly in sync with the bots. Shooting and shooting and shooting. Flips, whirls, throwing himself around as he did the same to his well loved pistols. More and more. Faster, faster, _faster._

His heart beat wildly and a boisterous laugh escaped him. Laser fire was only just barely missing him as he moved. Heat beside his face, the smell of faintly burned hair. A crackle of lasers fizzling out on the ground. It was the best thing in his life.

Lance lived for this feeling.


	14. Pidge's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge's view of Lance's showboating.

Pidge was just the tiniest bit frightened at how Lance performed in the simulation. She was ashamed to admit it, because she hates being looked at with pity, like she’s a child. Which she isn’t, by the way. She’s fifteen, a teenager just like all the other Paladins. Just like Allura, if you don’t count the 10,000 year cryostasis. She wasn’t a kid, hasn’t been for over a year now. Probably won’t ever get the chance to be a kid again, even if she finds her dad and Matt.

_When._

_When_ she finds her dad and Matt. Just because it’s been over a year doesn’t mean she won’t find them, because she will. Pidge will find them, and she will take them home to Mom, and they will be a family again. A scarred, possibly broken family, but a family no less. She was getting off topic. Again. So like she said, she was the teensiest bit afraid at Lance’s performance.

He started out acting like a kitten chasing a laser pointer. Chasing the drones and trying to catch them probably wasn’t the best of ideas, and it had seemed that Lance was so lost in his childlike curiosity he didn’t even notice he was being shot at in the process. And yet he still managed to dodge every single one of the lasers up until he grabbed a drone in his left hand and it shot him in the palm. The lasers are only supposed to sting, not injure, but Lance cradled his arm like it was shot off.

With the other hand he had finally drawn a pistol blaster and shot the remaining drones down with precise shots. The shift between childlike fun and deadly serious was just as terrifying as it was the day Lance first showed up, as he was leaving. Pidge had offhandedly mentioned how his crew wasn’t even leaving the ship, and watching the smile on his face become cold and deadly in such a short moment was eye openingly terrifying. His smile had become like the kind of smiles the Galra generals usually flash before the Paladins, and Allura if Blue allows it, start fucking everything up.

Cold, frightening, sadistic.

And then there was the ECD Lance had given them. She had spent the better part of a week geeking over the fine quality of technology that was compacted in such a short device, before obsessing over some improvements she wanted to make. If Pidge asked nicely, perhaps Lance could introduce her to the original engineer and designer of the piece.

She was getting off track again.

It wasn’t until Lance reached the later levels, about where the rest of them were on their respective training that Lance became real scary. Like it was a warmup, Lance slowly began doing a few twirls of the guns, where he twirls the gun using his finger in the area where the trigger could be pulled. The the twirls got more interesting. Mid twirl or spin, another shot would go off as Lance pulled the trigger.

He never missed his mark.

After that round, Lance jumped right into the tricks. Throwing the guns in the air, catching it on his finger to twirl and shoot a couple of times. Under his legs if a drone went too low behind him. Over his shoulder. Behind his back. Her favorite part by far was when his guns started clicking like they were out of ammo, except the ammo in question was plasma, not bullets. At that the empty gun was thrown into the air, the other following right after.

The first gun came down, and like a flash, Lance whipped one of the canisters he shoved into his sleeves beforehand and clipped it into the empty slot. The empty cartridge was on the ground a few feet away. Then Lance went right back to his dance.

Later on, when most everyone was in bed, she would view the camera footage over and over, zooming in and focusing on every detail. At first it would be to determine the moment the empty cartridge was ejected. Then it would evolve into obsessing over every movement Lance had made. Pidge would take to her grave just how many times that video was played back. Right after about level twelve, when Lance was just barely managing to get through it all, he called out the trigger words to end the training sequence.

When just taking the levels at face value, it seems kind of weak for Lance to only manage level twelve. On Earth, it’s where training simulators had the one simulation, that despite whether it’s passed or failed, it ends on that single simulation. And that would be considered ‘level one’. But here, on the castleship, each level had at a minimum of two waves. If you concentrate hard enough, you can notice when the pauses between waves are, and use that to your advantage.

After level ten, the simulations have three waves. And after level twenty it’s four waves. After level thirty it’s five waves, and so on and so forth. None of them have ever made it to level fifteen let alone level twenty so three waves are the maximum so far. Pidge follows after the rest of the group as they all go to meet up with Lance in the training room, already on her computer and downloading all of the footage of today’s training sessions, not just Lance’s.

For one, if anyone looks at her computer (looking at Hunk on this one) and sees all this footage it won’t just be footage of Lance. That would seem too stalkerish. For two, when she gets the time- and she hardly sleeps so she usually has time to spare- she can evaluate the others’ fighting styles so she can learn more. And for three, her analysations of this footage can go into everyone’s file.

Pidge was never good at conversations and friendship with anyone other than Matt, so analysing and picking apart everyone’s personalities helps her figure out how to interact when needed. She’s not a robot, despite the many accusations of that incorrect fact from her brother.

_Mom, Dad, I’m sorry to tell you this but I think Pigeon is a robot._

_Stop telling people that! And I told you not to call me that!_

Pidge lets out a small smile as they enter the training room, the memory making her both nostalgic and sad. She used to hate being called Pidge, courtesy of her brother Matt, until he left for the Kerberos, and she realized that she would desperately miss being called that. Guess she didn’t get the chance to miss it after all, seeing as that’s all she goes by now. She walked up to Lance alongside everyone else, her computer now tucked into the crease of her elbow and held to her chest. Lance was smiling and stretching his arms across his chest one at a time as they walked up.

“So,” Lance said, beating everyone to the conversation starter. He seemed to be the kind of person who hates awkward silences. “How was I? I know I’m probably leagues behind you guys but I think I was pretty damn awesome. What did you guys think?” Lance said, somehow sounding humble, and yet arrogant at the same time.

Lance hadn’t even finished talking before Hunk was going off about how awesome Lance was and all of them watched as Lance’s ego was inflated like a balloon. The moment Hunk stopped to take a breath it was Shiro who took over.

“That’s some impressive moves you have there. Where did you learn to do that?” Shiro asked, genuinely curious. A flat second of silence and Lance looking away awkwardly later, Shiro realized his mistake and immediately tried to back track. “Wait, I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry.. I didn’t even think.” Shiro said, backing away just a step and his face lighting up like a firetruck. Lance waved his hand at Shiro, the shifting of his feet the only thing giving away his discomfort.

“It’s fine Shiro. I learned how to use a gun in the arena, but after I got out and healed up, I joined the Resistance and practically every moment was spent teaching myself cool tricks. When I wasn’t busy with other things of course. Like fighting the Galra, or going on missions, or defending myself against the higher ups because I did something stupid.” Lance said, shrugging.

Pidge felt her chest tighten at the mention of the Resistance again. She really wanted to ask Lance if he had met her father or brother, or heard of them at least, but she didn’t want to do it in front of everyone. If she started crying she didn’t want to cry in front of everyone else. Lance was new, and he was so much like Matt, so it was okay to cry in front of him if it did happen. She vowed to herself to pull him aside as everyone left for dinner.

It took a little while for everyone to move on from questioning and complimenting Lance on his skills. Even longer when Shiro had Lance spar in hand to hand against Keith. That wasn’t nearly as exciting as his skills with the twin pistols, seeing as Lance was not as versed in that category. Keith had thrown Lance on the ground and pinned him all of three times before Lance was so exhausted he couldn’t stand.

Pidge was practically bursting with nervous impatience by the time Allura declared it time for food. Pidge hadn’t said a word for the entire time after they filed downstairs into the main training room. When her chance to grab Lance rolled around, she had nearly missed it, too busy fiddling with the rough model of her improved communication device.

To catch him before he left with the others, she practically launched across the room to latch onto the back of his black bodysuit. She immediately pulled away with a yelp of disgust, her hand damp from the sweat Lance was producing. Pidge would have to take a nice long time washing her hands after this, or maybe just a shower. She may look like and act like a boy most the time, but there is no way in hell or high water that she will smell like one.

Lance turned around with a smile, the sound of the sliding doors closing behind him. All of a sudden they were alone, and Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose with her clean hand. She looked down at her feet, a shyness she doesn’t often experience welling up in her chance. Shiro already asked him an awkward question earlier, perhaps this will go over even smoother.

“I just wanted to ask you some things. If it’s alright with you.” Pidge said. She looked up, pushing her glasses up once more, watching as Lance tilted his head with a puzzled look before smiling brightly. He reached out a hand and settled it on top of her head, a little like Matt used to do to her. Except Matt would ruffle her hair, whereas Lance was just placing it on top of her head. The gesture made her smile.

“No problem Pidge.” Lance replied, his smile nearly blinding but not wrinkling his eyes like she was used to. They hadn’t spent much time together since their first meeting, but given that Pidge was analysing Lance from the beginning, she was willing to bet that the smiles that crinkle his eyes up aren’t as sincere as this one. 

Lance smiles a lot.

“Before we first discovered the Blue Lion on Earth, Shiro and two scientists went to one of Pluto’s moons on a mission.” She began. Lance tilted his head in thought before nodding fervently, moving to sit against the wall with a huff. Pidge followed slowly, setting her laptop off to the side as Lance faced her.

“Yeah I heard about that, I was Shiro’s biggest fan at the time, so I heard they would be launching to Kerberos, but I didn’t get the chance to see them off.” Lance said, a little bit of tension in his voice. 

“Because you were somehow in space by then?” Pidge asked. Lance nodded. “Will you tell me happened?” She prodded gently, bumping his shoulder with her own. Lance breathed out shakily. Before anything else was said, Hunk appeared in the doorway to call them for dinner. Lance looked at her, and suddenly that black mask seemed like the only thing keeping Lance from staring into her soul. 

“How about we do this at dinner. I’m sure everyone has their own curiosities.” Lance said as his eyebrow raised, the one framing his uncovered eye. She felt her stomach drop, but agreed anyway, and followed him and Hunk to the dining room.


	15. A Peak into Lance's Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depressing dinner conversations.

It was only after the two of them sat down that Hunk finally broke. 

“What took you guys so long?” Hunk asked as he set down the food. Apparently he refused to let anyone eat until they were all present, and after a minute or two of pleading from almost everyone, even Allura, he had went to find the two missing people. Lance didn’t dig in like everyone else, even if they did slow down a little in their own curiosity. He was too polite, content to let everyone gather their food first before eating himself. 

It was how he was raised. 

In his house, the first to eat were guests, then his grandparents, then his parents, and lastly the children. Except for his mother, because she was always too busy making sure everyone else was eating before she herself sat down to dig in. Also, no elbows on the table, but Lance wasn’t at home, so he crossed his arms to lean on the table. Out of everything he has been through, that had felt like the most dangerous thing he could ever do. 

_If his mother found out…_

Lance answered Hunk’s question before he could fall into old memories that will just make him hurt. “Pidge was asking me about how I came to space in the first place.” Everyone kind of froze for a second but Lance continued on anyways. “So to answer that question, I was kidnapped.” Lance took a moment to fill his plate as he realized everyone was done until seconds. 

“I grew up in Cuba with my family, but when I got accepted into the Garrison I moved to America. It happened a couple of days after I had arrived. I was exploring the city, when I was lured into some shop full of odd devices I now realize were alien. The guy who ran it knocked me out, and next thing I know I’m on some spaceship with a handful of other prisoners in a part of space I didn’t recognize.” He said. 

Lance took a couple of bites as if it was no big deal, but the food was like lead in his stomach. He hated recalling the early days of his stint in space. Shiro spoke up quietly, guessing on what happened next since Lance took a moment too long to answer. 

“So they threw you to the arena to die.” Shiro said, pain in his voice. Lance chuckled without a hint of humour, his eyes dropping to his plate. 

“I only wish that was what happened first.” He said bitterly. Keith was next to question Lance. 

“What do you mean by that?” He asked. Lance leaned back, half of his plate eaten. 

“It means there are worse things than being in the arena sometimes. No offense Shiro.” Shiro shrugged as if to say, _None taken._ He looked uncomfortable. 

“When we finally got off that first ship, we weren’t even sold to the Galra. In fact the Galra didn’t even factor in until months later. We were all sold as personal slaves to any alien willing to buy. Most of the other humans were sold only once and within a week. Not me though. I was one of the first sold, and the last as well. I went through probably three different ‘masters’ in as many weeks, before my slaver got pissed off.” He said, extra hatred in his voice when he said _masters._

Lance was on a roll now, and he desperately wanted to stop due to the looks of horror running across his friends’ faces. But he was too lost in the memories, trying to tell them as little detail as possible, while still telling enough for them to understand what happened to him. 

“After my slaver finished beating me within an inch of my life, a Galra commander decided to take me on. Despite my reputation for being,” Lance paused to find the correct word but settled with, “A handful, to say the least. He was determined to break me, and almost succeeded too, but I guess I pushed him a step too far one day. Next thing I know I’m a new sacrifice to the Arena’s slaughter. Except I didn’t die like I was supposed to, instead I kept winning. I only killed those who had practically bent to the will of the Empire and actively fought and killed for entertainment. Innocent victims, like myself, I spared.” Lance swallowed down his guilt, hoping none of them looked at him any differently after what he’s admitting. 

“That changed too, however, when the Galra got tired of my mercy. After what they did, I killed everyone in the arena, innocent and otherwise, because the other option was far worse than death. I escaped about a month after the Champion did.” Lance finished, snapping out of his trance like state. Shiro seemed to pale considerably at the end of his story. 

“You knew who the Champion was?” Shiro asked, voice shaky. Lance snorted and shook his head. 

“No way, the Galra wouldn’t pitch two titled gladiators like the Champion and I against each other. No matter how epic the fight could be, they don’t want the guarantee they would lose a fan favorite. So no, never met the guy, but his escape both hindered, and aided my own.” Lance finished, shaking his head. Keith tilted his head to the side. 

“Titled? What do you mean? And how did it hinder and aid your escape?” Keith asked. Lance examined his nails in boredom, hoping he can do them sometime soon. Perhaps Allura had some beauty products Lance could borrow. Her skin was very nice and smooth, and her nails were so perfectly manicured. That is probably up there in the _Very Impossible, but Apparently Possible Things_ list Lance has. She’s fighting in a _war,_ how is her nails not battered like his own? It could only be magic he would say. 

“When a gladiator in the arena gets enough fan approval, eventually they develop a name for themselves, ergo, a ‘title’.” Lance tried not to say it like it was obvious, making it sound like they were ignorant for not knowing. Lance only knew the system after months of speaking to other prisoners. 

“His title was the Champion, whoever he was, and mine was the Hunter. When the Champion escaped, it didn’t really help me seeing as security for gladiators was heightened exponentially. But then again, after word of his escape got around, prisoners became more bold, myself included.” Lance leaned forward back to the table, using his right hand to poke at his food. His left hand was raised slightly level with his face, his fingers marking off what he said next.

“Riots, prison guard murders, attempts everywhere for escape. It was chaos, and it set up the opportunity for the Resistance to get some agents in, posing as prisoners. In my case, they used me as bait, having me cause enough chaos to draw the ship’s attention off the other prisoners. They came for me in the last second, long after the _Beast Emperor_ himself had left the scene. I was badly wounded in the battle, and taken to Big Momma’s to be nursed back to full health. Afterwards, I joined the Resistance, and worked my way up the ranks faster than anyone else.” 

Lance shrugged again and made that face that could only mean, _The rest was history._ Allura coughed to get his attention and Lance looked up at her. She shifted, before speaking gently. 

“What happened to your eye?” She asked, nearly whispering. 

Lance shook his head, refusing to reveal to them the truth of what happened. His hand drifted up to ghost over the edge of his mask before he lowered it. He still had nightmares about it. It was all still so fresh in his mind. The glint of steel, screams, pain at his wrists, and blue liquid spreading and spreading and spreading. 

“I think,” Lance started, before pausing and restarting, clearing his throat as it tightened, gathering his thoughts back out of what Lance calls the Dark Space. “I think you have had enough horror from me tonight. Don’t be fooled though, I do have an eye underneath this mask, and a very capable one at that.” 

Lance tapped his eye beneath his mask with his fingernail. If the eye had been human, it would have been an uncomfortable pressure, but even through the mask the sound of a _clink clink_ could be heard, revealing that his eye was metal. 

“Like Shiro’s arm, the witch, Haggar, decided to give me a little gift before I managed to escape. Unlike Shiro, mine has a tracking device, and the mask I wear disrupts the signal until I can find someone who can fix it.” Lance turned to Pidge, who was looking at him from his left with wide eyes that belied how young she actually was, and made her seem far younger. He pointed at her with the hand laying on the table, not bothering to lift it up. 

“This is where you come in my dear Pidge. If you can find some way to disable the tracker, without rendering me paralyzed, I could finally go home.” Lance said, before tacking on at the end, “No pressure though.” 

Pidge just stared at him with a dropped jaw and comically wide eyes. Then she seemed to snap out of it, shutting her jaw with an audible click. She seemed to be giving herself a pep talk before she finally blurted out what was on her mind. 

“Do you know anyone by the name of Samuel or Matthew Holt?” Lance blinked, witch looked kind of odd with his mask, and tilted his head. He racked his brain for the names, assuming they were human, and shook his head. They were probably friends, or even family of Pidge, who were taken by the Galra. He was asked far too often by people if he knew if their loved ones were dead, or still prisoner, or joined in the Resistance. It made his heart break to say that he could help very few find what they were looking for. 

Full ship vessels, like the Mermaid, were filled with people who were searching for lost loved ones or revenge for those who couldn’t be saved. When they weren’t on missions specifically given by the Council, the agents of the Resistance were free to do their own thing. Be it chilling at a base, coordinating attacks on the Galra, or searching the universe for loved ones.

“Can’t say I have, but I can check it out at the base.” He said gently. Lance laid a hand on her shoulder before she could start crying to gather her attention from her hands folded in her lep. “I would use my ECD, except I destroyed it, thinking I was going to be a prisoner again, and I can’t use yours because the devices only store contacts that are personally put in. Yours have all of my CO’s, as well as a couple of people I believe would be helpful to you guys, but no one by the name Holt. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t in the Resistance.” 

Pidge sniffed and nodded. Lance smiled at her and settled a hand on her head, like he used to do to his younger family members. Most of them hated it, but Marco, his little brother, always got the happiest smile when Lance did it to him. 

Pidge smiled up at Lance too, a lot like Marco would.


	16. Resistance Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance reflects. Shiro gets impatient.

The next day, after that heart wrenching conversation with his friends, they made the last wormhole jump to the Resistance base. Lance wasn’t sure he liked the feeling of a wormhole jump. In theory, a wormhole jump will take the object or person and deconstruct their matter only to reconstruct it again in another part of the galaxy. Lance wasn’t sure he liked that knowledge either, but he could admit that it was a far quicker process than lightspeed. 

That thought feels so weird to think. 

Before this whole mess with Voltron and the Galra and being kidnapped, lightspeed was considered the fastest form of travel. Although to humans, creating machines able to move at the speed of light was near impossible until major advancements in technology could be made. Now Lance is flying around in an ancient castle that doubles as a spaceship and is still probably eons ahead of Earth in technology. 

Despite being more than 10,000 years old. 

He was nervous, playing with the fingers of his gloves. They were dressed in the Paladin suits, all of them standing or sitting in their respective chairs on the bridge. Allura was at the teleduv, Coran and himself standing at Coran’s console. After that heavy dinner conversation last night, Coran had been the one to lighten the mood in a manner that Lance only wish he could perform with such ease. 

When everyone had dispersed to do whatever they all do in their downtime, he and Coran had been the last to leave. They hit it off without a hitch and spent all night just talking and cleaning and working on parts of the castle to keep it in good health. Coran told Lance a load of his ‘war stories’ that he had experienced during his lifetime. Most of them involved Allura’s father, who was spoken of in a soft and quiet manner. 

Coran and Alfor must have been close in their years, because Coran spoke nothing but the kind of praise only a close friend would tell people. The kind that when spoken of with only a slightly negative undertone could be considered bad things, but when a friend says them it’s more affectionate and fond. 

In return, Lance told him all about his home back on Earth in Cuba. 

Most of it was happy things, like that little shop on the corner that his family goes to every Friday for a family dinner. It may sound cute and normal to most people, but when Lance says ‘family dinner’ he means the entire family. More often than not they take up half the restaurant and the locals know that when Friday dinner time rolls around it’s just best to stay away, unless they can handle the entire McClain army. 

Most can’t though. 

Then some of their stories bordered on depressing. 

Lance tells Coran about losing his older brother when he was younger, and in return Coran talks about his son who died in the war against Zarkon 10,000 years ago, shortly before he and Allura were put in the cryo sleep. Hunk may have been the one he considers his best friend, but Coran felt like a father figure. 

Or that eccentric uncle that is always the life of a party. 

That’s what Coran is doing now actually. As they all stand on the bridge waiting for the arrival at the base, Coran is darting across the room to each and every one of the people on board. Lance notices how everyone seems to gravitate into their own little groups. Shiro and Keith stand off to the side, heads bent together, talking in low tones. 

Keith’s arms are crossed, and he’s wearing his red Paladin armor, dark hair falling into his face and his helmet held under his arm like a basketball. Shiro is wearing the black armor as well, his own helmet dangling from his fingertips at his side. He’s smiling, his lips barely quirking up but still noticeably a smile, and he looks at Keith with a gentleness he only ever witnesses between family members and extremely close friends. Keith on the other hand looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. 

Lance smiles and looks over to Pidge and Hunk, who were bent over that chunk of metal and wires that’s beginning to look very familiar. He can’t pinpoint why exactly, just that it does. They stand on the opposite side of the bride from Shiro and Keith, Hunk sitting in his Paladin chair, with Pidge practically flopped over the side of it. 

She’s pointing enthusiastically a few things Lance can’t see with wide eyes. her glasses slip down her nose three times in the few seconds Lance stares at them, and then she scowls and just takes them off. Then she uses the hand holding her large frames to point and gesture while Hunk nods and talks. 

Lance can read lips fairly easily, he has to be able to if he wants to communicate with his youngest niece, who is really quiet and shy, and always turns to whispering so low she’s practically just moving her lips when she feels out of place or uncomfortable. Which is a lot, but whatever. So he can read lips pretty well, but whatever gibberish those two are speaking he is positive it isn’t english. 

Or Spanish. 

Lance feels his lips twitching into a smile, and looks down at his feet to try and hide it. For pretty much two years now he’s been alone in space, fighting everyday just to survive until he can return home. Not much in space reminds him of his family, and for most of his time in space he doesn’t think about them at all. He just can’t when he’s embroiled in a losing war against an almost unbeatable power. 

Lately however, things have been changing. Everywhere he looks on this ship is a reminder of home. Shiro’s stability, Keith’s determination, Hunk’s kind understanding, and Pidge’s relentless curiosity. Allura’s strength in rationality (most of the time), physical ability, and leadership. Coran’s comedic nature that eases all of the tension building in the room. It all remind him so much of home, of Earth, of Cuba. So much like his family and himself. 

It feels good, being able to see his family around him no matter how far away they may be. He may have only just been introduced to these people but Lance feels content just watching them all. They patch up a hole that opened the day he realized he couldn’t return home to Earth and Cuba. Not quite filling the hole, but they patch it up pretty well.

*****************

It felt like it has been hours since they landed on the planet housing the Resistance base. They had hailed the base after exiting the wormhole, and were granted clearance to land safely. Shiro and the other paladins had left the ship to Coran, Allura tagging along since she was the spearhead of their team and would be needed for negotiations into the Voltron Alliance. They had all been greeted by three aliens, who were all obviously from different planets, and the first thing they did was greet Lance with the grasping of the forearms. 

Lance was smiling the entire time, although if you asked Shiro it looked a little strained. After that it was Allura who introduced them all, and then they were all lead to this room where they were currently, and hadn’t been spoken to since. The room was bare of anything but a single table with twice as many seats as the Paladins took up. Lance had separated from them, giving a reassuring smile to everyone as he left. 

Leaving them with only the words, _I just need to have a quick conversation with my higher ups, you know. Give them the lay down of what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a bit, sit tight._ And then they were left to just sit around for what had to be at least two hours Earth time. Pidge and Hunk were sitting with their heads together, whispering about who knows what. 

Keith and Allura were both sitting quietly, a conversation flowing loosely between them as well, filled with nonsense and pleasantries. Shiro however, he had taken to pacing. His arms were crossed, and his face was probably pinched in worry or aggravation, and his steps were in threes. _Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn._

He felt like such a hypocrite right then. 

For all the time he had known Keith, he preached to him that patience yields focus. The moment they met in the Garrison, when Keith was almost expelled for aggressive behavior to his peers, Shiro had stepped in. They practically tossed Keith to him in a last ditch effort to keep their prodigy child. 

So Shiro took it upon himself to teach the boy, and eventually became as close as brothers. It was always patience that Keith lacked, so it was always patience that Shiro preached, and now he was being hypocritical as he paced the corner he had claimed. 

“Shiro, sit down, you’re making us all anxious with your pacing.” Keith exclaimed, after watching him for a moment. Shiro sighed and stopped pacing, but finally sat down as he was told. It didn’t help his own anxiety now that he was unable to pace out his energy, so he started bouncing his right leg. 

After a few more seconds of sitting, the door finally reopened and Lance strode in. The slam of the door behind him belied his calm expression.

They all stood up to greet Lance, the months of diplomatic missions instilling politeness in their instincts right alongside their fighting instincts. Shiro finally felt that restless energy evaporate the moment he laid eyes on Lance. Perhaps his anxiety was because he couldn’t see his newest teammate? That felt like what Shiro was experiencing, and he couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad.

“They are prepared to negotiate an alliance with team Voltron.” Lance said and Shiro saw hunk and Pidge share a look briefly before Pidge crossed her arms with an inquisitive stare.

“That was what took two Earth hours to speak about huh? I don’t buy. What happened?” She said, and Lance’s smile strained itself a little. 

“Don’t worry Pidge. Just some in house drama.” Lance replied, ruffling her hair playfully, although to Shiro it looked like his heart wasn’t completely in it.

They were then escorted to the council room, which housed a long oval table. The Resistance delegates were already seated on one side of the oval, with seats set up for them too join. Shiro and Allura sat in the center, the spearheads of the team. Keith sat to the left of Allura, and Hunk beside him. Lance sat to the right of Shiro, with Pidge taking up the end seat beside him. 

The negotiations started without a hitch, and Shiro laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder. It made him relieved when the tension in the boy’s shoulders eased under its weight. Shiro couldn’t be happier that he was able to comfort his newest teammate.


	17. Space Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The negotiations end tensions rise.

Keeping his frustrations to a minimum during the negotiations was arguably one of the hardest things Lance has ever done. The meeting he had with his superiors went awful, at least from his standpoint. Safe to say he doesn’t exactly trust them anymore, which makes his heart ache behind the tightness of his chest.

After dropping his friends off in the waiting room, he had split off to tell the council of his discoveries and that was when things went downhill. It started with a shared set of glances between the council. Now Lance wouldn’t say he was always right when listening to his gut, but he didn’t need to be told by his body that they were hiding something. 

*******

Lance let the smile on his face fall when the door shut between him and his team. It’s not that he was faking his own emotions, it’s just that he needed to look more professional when dealing with the council. He’s learned the hard way that they don’t appreciate his joking nature when there is a war going on. Lance just thinks that they need to loosen up a little, maybe have the slightest bit of fun before this war and it’s subsequent stress kills them. 

When someone says ‘council’, the first thing most people think of is a handful of old guys who are the stereotypical old guy (or woman) type. Grumpy, stubborn, hard of hearing. The whole shebang. But with this ‘council’ the word is literally just a generalization. Sometimes the room is filled with more than two dozen people at once, which is when the Big Room is used, and other times it could be only one. Depends on what is going to be discussed, how many people on the ‘council’ are planetside, and how much time is taken to set up the meeting. 

This council of the Resistance is far different than the stereotypical old men. For one, there are no humans, so that’s different. For two, most of the members are fairly young considering. They’re in a _war_ , there is hardly enough time _for_ someone to get old when on the frontlines. And for three, literally anyone can be considered a part of the council, so long as their rank is high enough. 

Lance is a member too, technically.

So Lance finally makes it to the Small Room, and seated at the table are five aliens who were all members. And none of them particularly _liked_ Lance, so there’s that. It’s not that they hated him, some people just don’t appreciate his personality. He’s used to it, honestly. Can’t please everyone right? 

They sit down, and Lance tells them everything he thinks would be useful, starting from the first sighting of the Castle of Lions among his ship. He tells them about his personal mission, sparing them the details on _why_ he was out on his own. That doesn’t stop them from shooting fleeting glances at his mask.

He tells them about the Swap Moon, where he met with Marva, and what she revealed to them. He tells them about his bounty. And most importantly, he tells them that team Voltron are trustworthy and willing to make an alliance. 

And then those glances are shared when Lance mentions that he believes someone sold him out, that someone was a traitor to either him or the Resistance, or both. That was when Lance turned into the cold Gladiator that escaped the arena. 

People get uncomfortable when he switches to ‘arena mode’. 

Lance pressed into them, using that cold hardness he’s developed over the past two years, give or take, and he weasels the information out of them. It wasn’t all that difficult, when one link in the chain breaks, all of them crumble. It’s just going to happen, and there is no reason for him not to use that to his advantage. 

Then it’s their turn to spill everything. 

_And boy do they spill._

*********

Lance snaps back into the present for no particular reason. He didn’t realize it, but he was staring his superiors down hard, but his form was relaxed. That could be due to the firm pressure on his shoulder, Shiro’s hand not having moved since he sat it down at the beginning of negotiations. 

Allura is on a roll.

Some of what is being said flies right in one ear and out the other, but he gets the gist. Shiro pitches in at some points, a lot of points actually. Pidge and Hunk stay mostly quiet, content to, like himself, sit and listen until their cue for input.

Lance doesn’t bother to input his own words until the end. 

They are all closing up the negotiations, and when Allura stands to shake hands with one of the leaders Lance stands up as well. He towers over Shiro’s seated form, and holds his arm out to stop Allura in her tracks. Everyone freezes, Allura’s hand slowly dropping as she asks him something in concern. 

He doesn’t hear her, instead focusing on the superiors in front of him. 

His face turns even colder when they all meet his gaze before darting it away. They were of higher rank yes, but in that moment it was like they were in school on Earth. The aliens across from him slump into themselves in shame, like they were students being scolded by the Principal. 

Lance was the Principal scolding them. 

“We don’t have a deal until you give me what I asked for.” Lance says. His voice is mellow, not angry, but it still gives the desired effect in the silence of the Small Room. The alien sitting dead center- a stout, furry little thing that looks like a ferret in colors of green- straightens and stands up. He’s barely the height of Pidge, but Lance knew better than to think him harmless. When it comes to ship sabotage, he’s the man to go to. He knows the inner workings of the Galra ships so thoroughly, that when needed, he take out an entire battleship by using the ship against its inhabitants.

“We are unauthorized, McClain. The kind of information you request is too sensitive. In the wrong hands…” He trails off, his voice slightly nasally. His name was Glual, if Lance wasn’t mistaken. Spoken as if saying _glue-all._ Lance scoffs, cutting off whatever was about to leave Glual’s mouth next. 

“You lost the right to shut me out the moment me, and Voltron by extension, were put in so much danger. You can’t handle this from the inside you say? Then give the information to me, because apparently you don’t know how to do your jobs.” He countered, his voice mocking. A short cry of outrage escaped some of the others, but Glaul shut them up with a flick of his hand. Technically speaking, Glaul was the highest ranked here, although it escapes him what that rank actually was. 

“And what do you plan on doing McClain? We’ve been looking into this for a phoeb, and you expect to make any headway where we could not?” 

Lance felt himself puff up, about to lay down a verbal attack when Shiro stood up, causing Lance’s arm to fall. Lance hadn’t even realized he still held his arm up, and his hand was clenched in rage. 

“What are you talking about? What is going on? Lance?” Shiro exclaimed, sounding slightly exasperated with the fact that no one was clueing him in. 

_Who was Lance to leave the man hanging?_

Almost in unison, Lance and Glual spoke up. Glual had barely managed to get out a _“Don’t”_ before Lance bulldozed his voice over him. 

“The Resistance has a rat, and that rat has been steadily selling out high ranking agents for a month now. And I plan on taking what information they have and finding out who sold me out.” Lance declared. And then a silence so loud ensued, you could probably hear a pin drop.


	18. Search Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search begins.

Lance began his search for the mole by combing through what information the Resistance _did_ have thoroughly. Turns out it wasn't a whole boatload of the council knowing and not telling him about the rat, it was actually those five people. Glual and the other four members who had negotiated with team Voltron all had a hand in keeping this sort of vital information under wraps. Lance can understand keeping secrets to avoid panic. 

He can. He truly _gets it._

Lance himself has kept many secrets from his crew to avoid mass hysteria on board while they drifted through space. Like that one time, somehow, a very dangerous, carnivorous, and sneaky little alien animal got on board the Mermaid. Lance only told Nama, and Thorak, who both agreed it was best to handle the situation quietly.

Lance managed to lay a trap, using Nama as bait to get the beast out of the vents. When the beast was cornered, it was up to Thorak, the tougher skinned of the three, to subdue the beast. Lance was tasked with sedating it long enough for them to throw it out of the airlock. And while, in theory, that plan was decent, in reality the trap failed. 

Nama, bless her heart, got scared and took off just as Thorak closed in on the beast closing in on Nama. Lance had to shimmy and squirm his way through the tight squeezes of the inner body of the ship to chase after it. That was due to Nama basically saying _nope_ and getting the fuck to safety. 

The amount of pains in his ass, literally and figuratively, chasing that beast around the smaller squeezes of the ship was indescribable. Astoundingly, annoyingly, complete and utter nonsense. Not to say that Lance didn't complete his task like a champ. 

Because he did. 

_**Fabulously.**_

********

Let's just say that somehow, some _way_ , there was a shit ton of _glitter_ involved. Now that. That was a hell of a day. 

********

It's a story for another time perhaps.

********

So again, just to be clear, Lance _gets it._

********

He tries to remember not to be so harsh on those jackasses while he combs through the short list of evidence. They had first looked out of the Resistance, to the people who were empathetic to the cause. A long list of suspects had been checked over, including Marva. Only three names were marked of by the time Lance took over the investigation.

********

Lance then went to work on checking the names on his list, one by one. Starting with Marva. He went to that Swap Moon again, and snuck into her shop when she was out. He searched the place, turned it upside down and inside out, before putting everything back to where it was. 

********

He's watched plenty of spy movies too, so he made sure to look for hidden places. In the light fixtures, underneath floorboards, behind walls, in between walls. He checked for a false bottom on all of her drawers and her personal items. He checked inside trinkets, boxes, the cash register. Inside the couch, the couch cushions, underneath the couch. Same with the bed. 

********

Nothing, he found nothing to be suspicious of. 

********

The relief he felt was like breathing fresh air after nearly drowning. He knows how that feels. You don't become so attuned to the ocean like him without a few bad experiences that almost killed you. 

********

He continued to do the same with every person on the list, simultaneously having Pidge run data checks on them all. It wasn't that he was taking a leading position on the team, God no. But everyone, even Shiro, even Allura, referred to him first before making a move. When he had asked why they looked to him for directions, they all said practically the same thing. 

********

This was Lance’s case. 

********

Lance was the one who had taken a personal hit by this guy, whoever he is. Lance was the rebel agent. Lance was the one who should take the lead on this investigation. 

********

So he did.

********

Most of the listed empathizers had checked out clear for the accusations. However it was discovered that there was a minor black market trade happening between a few of the newer recruits and the empathizers. That was an interesting thing to discover, and they were all dealt with accordingly with classic democratic justice. 

********

Just because the people on the list showed no signs of sabotage, didn't mean they weren't suspects as much as he hated to admit it. The people on the list were still under the microscope when a new piece of evidence had come to light.

********

The person sold out before Lance was a well respected front liner, who took the place as spearhead of major coordinated attacks on the Galra. He was also one of the oldest people in the Resistance, having been around when it was still new. 

********

Nothing but a bunch of angry aliens trying to get revenge. 

********

The man, Klum, was hailed as a Commander. Now, for those who don't intimately know the ranking of the Resistance, it's time to learn. It's starts out with the basic five categories. 

********

Medical, Front Line, Intelligence, Side Line, and Council. 

********

So first, Medical. It splits into three basic categories itself. The first is emergency. Their the ones who take on the big surgeries and the multiple injured situations. The second is the field medics, who are trained to both fight and heal.

********

And the last are the Runners. Runners are the guys who distribute medical, food and essential supplies to the planets in need. The word for this on Earth are humanitarians, but most of the universe are clueless on what a human is.

********

Then there is the Front Line. Front liners, like Commander Klum, are always in the thick of battle. There is a huge warfront in the Dalexital System that hasn't been battle free for over a year now. The system is uninhabited naturally, but the planets are rich with valuable materials the Empire and the Resistance both use to make weapons. 

********

Then there are Side Liners, like Lance. They are the people who make a series of small attacks on the Empire to try and weaken their forces. 

********

The next is Intelligence, which are the spies of space basically. They willingly plant themselves in dangerous places in the Empire in order to smuggle information. 

********

An example of an Intel agent, was the guy who planted himself as a prisoner being sent to Galdiator matches. He was the one coordinating between Lance and the Resistance, giving Lance a chance to put a plan into play. 

********

Last but not least the Council, which is basically consisted of every ranked member from Lieutenant and up. And the order of rank is as follows. 

********

Fighters (or medics if you're in that field). Then Pilots, who pilot the less armed crafts on humanitarian runs. Like a cargo pilot. Then there are the Fighter Pilots, which Lance is. Specialists, like Glual, who have particular abilities that aid the cause. 

********

Corporals, then Sergeants, then Lieutenants. Next are Captains, which Lance also is. Majors, Lieutenant Colonels, like Glual, and Colonels. Commanders, like Klum. Lieutenant Generals, Generals, and Admirals. And last but not least the Head. 

********

Most people call him the Ghost Head.

********

Someone had to take control of all these random rebels, right? Someone had to be smart enough to organize this entire Resistance in the first place. And that's him, the Ghost Head. 

********

No one knows his real name, or what he looks like, or even if it is a 'he'. No one knows the specie The Ghost Head is, nor how old he is. No one even knows how to contact him. He contacts you, end of discussion. 

********

Military lesson: _finished._

********

So back to Klum. 

********

After Pidge hacked into the Galra ship, she had stumbled upon some interesting information. The tip had come from a signal that was bounced off maybe three or four different planets' signals. When retracing the person's viral fingerprint the signal came from a ghost signal _far_ too familiar to the Resistance. 

********

An ECD. Encrypted Communication Device. 

********

Now, when they still used the transponders they had before the ECD, the signal could be tracked as simple as saying _1, 2, 3._ But the new design, however, makes it nigh impossible, even for Pidge. They don't own a signal to call their own, because they piggyback off of the Galra.

********

Lance then demanded a full list from the council of every known rebel agent. He could use the codes and signals of every ECD to try and locate the source of the mole. With Commander Klum and a few friends of his backing him, Lance was given the okay to have that list. 

********

It took two whole days to get them all down.

********

Lance then spent his time combing through every one of those codes manually one by one. His friends would often try to help but Lance had a slight case of OCD. He trusted the team, probably too much. But when they go through the list to help, Lance can't help but to go over it himself. Pidge was the first to find out, and when she did, she blew up at him.

********

Took an hour or two to explain that _No, I DO trust you guys to do it right but I just need to see for myself._ No one held it against him and left him to do it on his own, although Pidge was visibly disgruntled at being pushed off the job. She made him promise to keep an eye out for Sam or Matt Holt, giving him an old photo of the three of them for a picture identification.

********

Did he mention that this entire time he was still an acting member of Voltron?

********

He still went on missions with the team like usual. Saving planets, building alliances, destroying Galran fleets. He responded to the call for Paladins alongside his friends, fighting valiantly with the rest of Voltron.

********

The first time they formed Voltron was like an intense rush. They were just so connected. Their minds, slipping in and out of each other's head hole seamlessly. Their bodies, in sync and moving together as fluid as water. Their lions, creating the giant superweapon called Voltron.

********

The same thing happened when he bit the bullet and used his Bayard for the first time. It was odd having to use two hands on one gun. The rifle was just heavy enough that during long periods of shooting, it was just better to use both. He was so unfamiliar with the rifle, that when he went up against the simulator like he did his first time, he couldn't get passed level one. 

********

Boy was that a blow to the ego.

********

Eventually he got used to the weapon, and could keep up with his teammates. Most of them could at least reach level nine alone, and level thirteen so far as a team. So all in all, they were pretty decent. 

********

Lance especially liked it when they sparred in pairs, and when he would be teamed up with Keith. It was just too fun to argue with him. You could hardly notice it, because his mullet hid most of his ears, but the tips of his ears turn red when angry or embarrassed.

********

It was great.

********

He spent his free time trying to locate the mole, cutting into time he usually would have used for training or his facial regime. And if he lost some of that precious beauty sleep in the process? Well then, no one mentioned it.

********


	19. Take Us Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron gets attacked, again, and things get bad.

Lance never got the chance to figure out who the mole was, because of course the price on his head had to drudge up more issues. Apparently the recent lull in hunts for his capture had happened because people were ganging up on him. Five to be exact. Five _fleets_ to be even more exact. And just to make sure the picture was comprehended completely, these were _five fleets_ of _Galra._

All for him.

Was it wrong to say he felt the slightest bit flattered that people wanted him so badly? Like, yeah. They probably wanted him _dead._ Or _tortured,_ or even taken back to the _arena,_ but _still_. If his ego wasn't big before, it sure as hell was now. 

Lance dropped his smirk with a grimace as he and Blue were hit with a laser. _Right. Fighting. They were in a war zone people, nothing to see here._ He took out the ship that nailed Blue's side before racing to regroup with his friends. 

It was difficult to admit, but Voltron was losing. 

The Castle was down for the count, some virus taking control of the ship's hardware. Pidge and Green were ship side, furiously hacking away at the virus from within the Castle so it could be taken back into the fray. Allura and Coran were on board as well, but with the teleduv acting up she couldn't wormhole them out of here. 

Hunk and Shiro had started to fight back to back, circling around each other to take out the baddies. Keith was thankfully hanging back with Lance, following Shiro’s example. 

His arms ached, the grip he had on Blue's controls bone breaking. His face was pinched as well as he heard the frantic chatter between his comrades, his friends. Something was tickling the back of his head as he watched the fighters of the enemy ships. They were moving fluidly in a very distinct pattern. 

Not many know this, but it was actually very unusual for two fleets to have the same flight patterns. Each Commander was tasked with coming up with their own flight patterns so that it would be harder for the rebels to get more annoying. 

Whatever it was Lance was looking at though, the memory refused to be brought to the forefront of his mind. Surely he's seen these patterns before? That could be the only explanation. But from _where?_

 _"Pidge! How's it coming? We need the ship online immediately!"_ Shiro sounded through the comms. When Lance glanced down at Shiro’s vid screen the man was glaring. He had slipped into a version of Lance's 'Arena mode', making his face stony and slightly scary.

Pidge’s huff through the comms was glaringly obvious despite the sounds of battle erupting around them. Unlike regular ships, the Lions could filter in outside noise, which meant every explosion could be heard, albeit slightly muted. 

_"Would you like to take over then genius? It's not like I'm taking my sweet time, this code is almost advanced as Altean technology!"_ She said, followed by a quick cry of outrage when she was obviously pushed back again. 

Lance wasted no time in butting in before they could start arguing, his voice light but serious. 

_"Alright guys, we're all in this together. Shiro, let her do her job, she's not the best for nothing. Pidge, don't take your anger out on us, we just really would like to have you backing us up is all."_

He glanced down at their vid screens, noticing how both looked properly chagrined, smiling slightly when they muttered their apologies. 

And so the fight continued.

It wasn't long after that little heart to heart mid battle that things took a turn for the worse. Pidge was still ship side, nearly silent as she fought back against the virus. The four of them were still going hard, but the toll was noticeable on all of them. 

Hunk took a nasty hit from an ion canon directed at the Castle, his Lion down for the count. Hunk did respond to their shouts, but he was slurred and delayed. 

_"Hunk, buddy! Gotta talk to me man! Talk to me! Stay awake buddy!"_ Lance called out. Him and Keith had their hands full with guarding Hunk and Yellow, while Shiro defended the Castle. It was a sad moment when Shiro called to pull them all on defense, the knowledge that they were losing hard weighing everyone down. 

Hunk slurred out a disjointed response, something that sounded vaguely like _"Don't yell so loud."_ Keith and Shiro kept calling out to each other, making sure they were okay. Shiro’s voice was noticeably strained, having to defend the Castle all alone. 

Meanwhile, Lance was still stuck on that itch in the back of his mind. He was positive he recognized these fighting styles, especially as the fighters reigned in to regroup. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Pidge’s call out in a triumphant voice knocked Lance out of his head. 

_"Teleduv is on! Shields are up! Return immediately guys, we have to wormhole out of here!"_ Pidge cried out in a rush of words. Keith and Lance had both gotten distracted, and at the same time a blinding light erupted around them. 

Lance felt it when Blue ejected him, felt it in his head when the ion canon hit her. Red and Yellow must have done the same thing, because he could see Keith fighting to float closer to Red. Hunk was limp, but he was slowly reaching out to Yellow with a weak cry. The ion canon ripped through space and three screams folowed. 

It took a moment to realize it was him, Hunk and Keith. 

Pain was everywhere in Lance’s body, both physically and mentally. Watching Blue, his beautiful Blue, be hit by that beam of ion laser was going to drive him mad.

Blue.

 _His_ blue.

She had saved him from too much harm, her sisters following suit, and it _hurt._

Lance felt his body jerk in another direction, and realized that he and his two stranded friends were being pulled towards the Galra ships. Blue, Yellow, and Red were all sucked into the Castle. 

Black was coming after them.

No, _Shiro_ was coming after them. 

The moment the metal doors were closed, Lance saw Black turn and the Castle disappear into a wormhole. Lance still was numb from feeling echoes of Blue's pain, so he put up no resistance when he was promptly knocked out by a gun. 

His last thought was what overcame his pain for Blue.

_I remember who this ship belongs to._

Then everything faded.


	20. Shemale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith, Hunk and Lance meet their captors.

Keith was the first to wake up. 

He was the first one to open his eyes, to see that they were all chained in a line on their sides in a Galran ship. He was the first to see Hunk up close, a nasty gash on his forehead. Thankfully the bleeding stopped and crusted over, but the threat of concussion was heart wrenching. He was also the first to see that their captors weren't present, and that the stars outside the window look wrong. 

Obviously the ship had been moved. 

Keith tugged at his restraints, a sleek dark looking metal connected by what seemed like purple lightning. They didn't zap him when he felt them. And if he closed his eyes, it almost felt like he was touching rope.

Hunk was, thankfully, the next to wake. His dark eyes blinked open groggily, shortly after Keith did. His movements were slow, and his speech was still slurred, but his eyes looked like they could cut diamonds. 

Hunk reassured Keith that he was fine without being asked. Perhaps Keith was a lot more obvious then he realized. He was the center of their little line, with Keith to his right. Lance was still passed out to Hunk’s left. 

Keith busied himself trying to manipulate his bindings to get free while Hunk checked on and woke up Lance. He didn't get very far. Since his hands were bound behind him, he couldn't see what he was doing. While most of the time that was a non issue, he wasn't familiar with these cuffs.

Back at the Garrison, long before Shiro and long before Kerberos, Keith was known for many things to his instructors. His flight prowess for one. He was always praised, always hailed as a child prodigy, and always placed on a pedestal high above the rest of his classmates.

It was what isolated him.

And while yes, he was often praised for his ability and instincts behind the wheel, he was also known for being a trouble maker. It wasn't exactly something he could say he was proud of. More often than not he was arrested, placed in simple Earth handcuffs. 

Only to be released due to the Garrison.

So he got pretty good at slipping cuffs, until he met the Altean version. Took him three weeks of constant, _secret_ , practice until he could disable the Altean cuffs and get himself free, and two more to do it behind his back. 

These cuffs were similar to Altean in design, so if he could just figure out the right wires to snap and the right sequence to do so he could-

Keith snapped out of his thoughts and pondering when he heard Lance groan. He looked over at the two of his friends, seeing Hunk leaning over Lance slightly. Lance was slowly blinking his eyes open, his mask gone. 

It shocked Keith, but his eye looked completely normal. 

There was no prominent scar across his eye, and there was no protruding metal like Sendak's. His eye looked completely human, if not discolored slightly in the iris. It wasn't glaringly obvious of course, but if you look closely, his masked eye was slightly darker than his other one. Which was ocean blue. 

Perhaps it was wrong of him to assume, but Keith thought the masked eye was going to be an obvious metal that matches Shiro’s arm. At that dinner, when Lance revealed how he came to space and the general idea of what happened to him, when he tapped his eye beneath the mask and a clinking sound followed..... 

Keith just expected something different.

Lance shifted his head a little bit and looked at Keith, and Keith looked away. It was impolite to stare after all, and despite what some people would say, he can have manners. 

Sometimes.

Hunk engaged Lance in a whispered conversation full of assurances and questions of injury. It was an intimate conversation, and Keith felt like he was intruding. Despite the fact that the cell they were in carried sound so well and despite the cell being so small. 

Speaking of cells.

The two beside him hushed their words and stood up on their feet alongside Keith, just in time for the door to whoosh open. The bright light hit their eyes hard and Keith winced at the sting in his eyes. During their brief incapacitation they were yanked forward one by one by guards. 

Keith and Lance went first, needing the least amount of muscle to be forced to move, despite the fight they put up. It only took about two shocks of electricity to make them stop thrashing like wild animals. They didn't stop fighting of course, but they didn't plan on getting hurt before they could escape.

They were shoved into a huge room. Every wall was lined with men who stood shoulder to shoulder, maybe a dozen or so on each of the four walls. There were also five people standing in the center of the empty room, one standing more forward than the rest. 

The three of them were shoved to their knees with guns to their necks, so close to each other that Keith could hear the intake of breath Lance took. This time Keith was in the middle, and he felt dread at the realization that, technically, he was the highest ranking member of Voltron.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Galra all around. May I introduce? The mighty Paladins of Voltron!" The man standing forward from the rest called out. He was a large Galra, the mammalian kind, with fur around his face and a deep claw scar raked across his right eye and nose and a little of his upper lip. 

His eyes were Galra Yellow, and his fur Galra purple, and he was easily the size of three of Keith. The curl of his lips were made even more gruesome due to that nasty scar. His voice was higher pitched though, and his chest slightly more... well... _round._

Keith wasn't even sure if this Galra _was_ a male.

"How _pathetic._ And here I thought Voltron was this all powerful creation." The Shemale Galra continued. Laughter, snarls and jeers surrounded the three of them as the Galra cheered the Shemale on. 

"Now look at you. Three Paladins of Voltron. Captured. And judging from the colors of their suits, I'd say we have Voltron's right hand on board!" Shemale continued.

_Fuck._

Keith hoped no one was paying attention to his hands, which he had shoved as far up his chest piece as he could to hide how he was trying to escape the cuffs.

A thick hand surrounded Keith's throat, and lifted him off the floor in his distraction. He really needed to start paying more attention to his surroundings. Like how he couldn't breath.

_Oh. Well that's happening. Too late to use his infamous smart-ass mouth yet? Probably._

Shemale brought Keith's face closer, and he could smell their rancid breath. He could practically tell you everything that's been in that mouth recently and seeing as how blood was a lot of it, he really didn't want to know. Keith jerked his head back, snarling just as much as the Shemale.

The effect was lost however, due to his lack of fangs and slowly purpling face from lack of oxygen. Shemale's attention was then yanked away by Lance, and his excessive need to piss people off.

"Leave him alone!" Lance cried, his voice strong but wavering. Shemale froze mid snarl, before a very cruel smile erupted on their face. Keith was then promptly dropped to the ground and he sucked in much needed breath. Not for breathing though.

For yelling at Lance. That _dumbass._

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my pet come home. What? No hello?" Shemale said, antagonizing like a pro.

It wasn't the tone that threw Keith for a loop though. It was the words they used. _Pet?_

_Didn't Lance call his slavers...?_

"I'm not your pet. Never was, and never will be. You _hijo de la gran puta!"_ Lance said, slipping into Spanish at the end. Keith wasn't sure what Lance just said, but he knew for a fact it wasn't one of his famous compliments. Maybe Lance would teach him how to swear in Spanish too.

Shemale smirked and in a flash their hand was raised and coming down hard in a punch to Lance's face. Keith and Hunk simultaneously lunged towards Lance, but were yanked back by the guards at their backs. 

"Looks like you've got your fire back pet, guess that means I'll have to put it out again." Shemale said, lifting Lance's head by his short hair. How they got a grip at all was beyond Keith. "I'm going to have fun with you."

Keith sucked in a breath when suddenly Lance was sent sprawling on the floor. Shemale turned to address the four in the center of the room who had yet to move. 

"Send the Red one and the Yellow one to seperate cells. I'll be taking my pet with me. He needs to learn some discipline." Shemale said, turning around in a slow circle to face Lance again.

Chitters and jeers went across the room as slowly the Galra lining the walls left. Keith and Hunk were yanked to their feet, and shoved down two seperate halls, fighting and struggling and calling Lance's name.

The last thing they heard from Lance was a scream, cut off by the shutting of the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Spanish in the story translates to "son of a bitch" or "son of a whore". If there's a Spanish speaker who say it's wrong, or if someone has a more creative insult let me know and I'll happily edit! Also, my computer is down so if you read this on tumblr, there are no links on the past few chapters but there is not much on my dash so it won't be hard to find.


	21. Anything But This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry Lance, my poor baby!!!

Lance jerked as pain erupted in his side. He was so dizzy, in so much pain. In the moments he was awake it was all he knew. _Time passed, how much? Had he been in hell for a few hours or was it a few years?_ Lance didn't know, he didn't know anything. 

Nothing but pain.

Lance used every fiber in his being just to open his eyes. The human one was caked over with blood, crusted shut and forcing his metal eye to take over. 

No matter how many times he made that mental click in his head, his eyes stayed tinted Galra purple. He used to love that color, the color purple. Lavender purple, the purple of the sky at sunset, the purple of water when the sun was at the right place. 

Purple was the color of his mother's ratty old apron she uses when she cooks. Of his little cousin's light up sneakers that they have to fight her to get her to take them off. They were probably too small now, but with how much his cousin loved them, Ma would put them in the memory boxes. 

Purple Was the color of his eldest sister's emo-punk phase, when she put streaks of purple in her hair. It was the color of nail polish stains on his bedroom floor. Of the cabinet trim. 

Purple was as much a part of his life as blue was. Blue was the color of the ocean, and the sky, and his family's eyes. All of them had blue eyes except for Marco and Veronica. They had brown eyes because they took after Ma. 

Now though, purple just represented pain. Galra ships and purple skin. Purple fur and Galra blood. Because their blood was fucking purple, he knows it and no one can say otherwise. Purple was the color of his mechanical eye, forever a part of him to remind him of his pain. 

Speaking of pain. 

Claws sunk into his skin again and drew blood, Lance hissing from the pain. He forced his eyes open again to look at the purple tinted Galra who was his one time slaver. Commander Pagg, as he's called, and despite his appearance, Pagg was in fact a male. 

"Wakey wakey Pet. Can't have you blackout before you finish your punishment." Pagg said, his voice sickeningly sweet. As if he was doing Lance a favor. Lance mustered the strength to spit in Pagg's face. 

"I'm going to kill you like the pig you are." Lance claimed, defiance burning in his one eyed gaze. Pagg smiled and snapped his fingers. Three searing pains erupted through his body as three lashes sounded on his back in quick succession. 

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breath through the pain, his teeth gritted hard. Black spots erupted in his vision but he didn't pass out, he refused to. 

He had to keep Pagg occupied, keep his attention. So long as he was focused on Lance he wouldn't even think about torturing his friends. Last thing he wanted was for Hunk or Keith to be where he is. So Lance decided to keep fighting. Shiro and Pidge were still out there, they would come to help rescue them all. But until that time comes Lance had to protect his teammates. 

A knife was pulled through the skin at his side, already pretty cut up with shallow cuts. Lance screamed and thrashed, just barely managing to stay on his feet. His wrists were chained to the ceiling, and the chain was tight enough he barely could stand on on his toes. It was the only thing keeping his shoulders in their sockets, already dislocated and relocated from earlier. 

Lance wheezed in harsh breaths as he tried to resort to old methods of coping mechanisms. Locking away his emotions and fear. Pushing his insecurities to the back burner. He knew better this time around, because last time he nearly broke because of his insecurities. 

Pagg had preyed on them, and it nearly broke Lance completely.

Lance’s skin jolted when a hand was settled gently on his waist, his body bare from the hip up. The soft touch made Lance freeze and seize up in fear and dread. He knew what happened next. So he thrashed as hard as could in his restraints, blocking out the pain from his open wounds and bruises alike. 

It was to no result but more pain and lashes.

While Lance was dealing with the pain of the recent whipping, a sting pricked at his neck. He tried to get away but it was too late. When it removed itself from his neck, a flash of an empty syringe popped up in the corner of his eyes and he sobbed. 

Fire lit up his veins, coursing through his blood and making him thrash for a whole new reason. He knew what was about to happen, but no amount of preparation would get him ready to handle what was coming. The fire spread through his whole body in seconds. 

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling.

Neither was it forgettable. 

A hand settled lightly on his chest and the fire roared. It brought back memories. Awful, terrible memories. He felt the hand smooth over his bleeding skin like it was art, both in his memories and in reality.

Anything but this.

Lance didn't stop fighting of course, but he was powerless. Hopeless. Helpless. He had no control over what this monster was about to do to his body, no control over anything. Not even the way he felt. Everything was manipulated against him and tears leaked out of his eyes.

The water unsealed the blood over his human eye but that was a small mercy in the chain of fucked up things Lance was going through. 

_Anything but this._

Pagg laughed cruelly into his ear, his whispering hoarse and slimy sounding. "Welcome home Pet." Lance flinched as Pagg liked up a bead of fresh blood on his neck, and the Galran laughed again. 

The epitome of evil.

"Welcome home." 

**_Anything but this._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyoo! Brittany here! 
> 
> Just wanted to let those of you who feel afraid or awkward to write a comment or send me a message... DON'T. Be afraid I mean. You guys don't understand the joy it brings me to see comments on my stuff. And if what you have to say isn't praise? GIVE IT TO ME STRAIGHT YALL. I want the bad along with the good. 
> 
> Change can't happen unless someone speaks up. 
> 
> The world won't evolve unless we learn from our mistakes. 
> 
> And stories can't be told without an audience to listen.


	22. Poor Voltron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days later, in the Castle.....

It took mere seconds for Shiro to realize just how quiet and vast the castleship was, especially without his three boys. Hunk can be relied on to make a load of noise in the kitchen trying to figure out some actually tasteful food. Keith was always known to be training in the training room at all hours of the day. And Lance..

Shiro wasn't quite sure _what_ Lance did when they weren't in battle. Things have just been _go, go, go_ since he became the Blue Paladin that they never had any downtime except for meal times. All other moments of the days was spent in group training, trying to get Lance used to his Bayard and working as a team. 

Or they spend it fighting Galra.

Now that those three have been captured, Shiro’s heart bled at the thought of what they were going through. He couldn't even focus on the star maps to locate them. Every thought was consumed by them.

Lance, the boy who survived in space all alone for almost or more than two years. Keith, the boy who rebelled against the Garrison when they covered up Shiro’s disappearance. And Hunk, the boy who just wanted to protect his friends.

Hunk and Lance got on swimmingly, like they have known each other their entire lives. Hunk and Keith are friends but not quite as close as Hunk and Lance. And Keith and Lance?

Don't get him started. 

Those two were so alike in so many ways that they butt heads constantly. In training, they try to outdo each other. At mealtime they antagonize each other. And pretty much anytime of the day where they are near each other they bicker. 

_But in battle?_

In battle, it's like watching dancers on a stage. They move around each other and the rest of the team so well it's like they were raised their entire lives just for that.

And now they had no way to get them back. 

"I've got an idea!" Pidge yelled, breaking him from his thoughts and bringing Shiro back to where he stood on the bridge. She was at her usual seat, typing away at her computers. 

Yes, computers. As in more than one. Three to be exact.

Shiro watched Pidge leap from her seat and darts over to where Allura stood at the star map console. Coran was elsewhere, trying his damned hardest to repair the castleship alone while Pidge tracked down their missing teammates, but Pidge just called him to come to the bridge anyways.

After that virus attacked the castle systems, protecting it from harm was like trying to squeeze a circular block through a triangular hole. Frustrating and impossible. The ship took major damage everywhere.

Pidge had isolated the virus and brought all of their systems back online, but after they wormhole to the nearest planet the place basically collapsed when it hit the ground. Of course, due to Princess Allura and Coran’s hard work they managed to land the ship safely. 

Now the remaining members were split in two pairs. Coran and Pidge did everything they could to bring the systems back online and in working condition, while Allura and Shiro tried to track down the boys. 

Pidge shows Coran something on the screen of her laptop, and they both start walking away sharing heated whispers. It was only after Shiro was looking at closed doors was he able to look away.

Poor Pidge. 

The girl took it the hardest out of all of them when the boys were captured. The moment she saw what happened to them and their lions, she let out an agonized wail. The Castle had already wormholed away by the time she reached the Green Lion's hangar. 

Then she rounded on Shiro as soon as he left Black and his rolling stomach behind. And the _words_ she yelled at him...

Shiro never knew she had such a foul mouth.

When she calmed down she went straight to working on the ship, tracking the boys down, and repairing the Lions to the best of her ability. No sleep, not even if Shiro ordered it of her. No food unless Allura, and only the princess, hand fed her while she worked. And definitely no side projects like she loves to do.

That was three days ago. 

_Three whole days._

Three days since Lance, Keith and Hunk were captured and probably halfway to Zarkon by now. All because Shiro couldn't save them. 

They were all hit so hard by this loss. The bags underneath Pidge’s eyes look like she was socked in the face multiple times. Coran's hair and mustache were frizzy and unkempt for the first time since Shiro had known him. Allura looked like a walking ghost. 

They were all hit so hard by this loss. The bags underneath Pidge’s eyes look like she was socked in the face multiple times. Coran's hair and mustache were frizzy and unkempt for the first time since Shiro had known him. Allura looked like a walking ghost. 

Shiro looked at her now, noticing how she stood at the map searching and searching. They were trying to track their suits signals, but something was interfering with the sensors. Now they stared at the star map and hoped for a miracle. 

One that hasn't come. 

Shiro sighed and stepped up behind Allura. His hand on her shoulder shook her out of her dazed state and she whirled on him. He didn't say anything about the way the light in her eyes dimmed a little, she was probably hoping fruitlessly that he was one of the boys.

Shiro softened his gaze in understanding, and gave her a reassuring smile, albeit a small one. Smiling was too difficult to do in times like this. "We'll find them Princess. We will." He said. And tears gathered in her eyes. 

"When? When Shiro? By the time we find them they'll be-" Allura cut herself off by choking on her words and Shiro hesitated only slightly before drawing her in for a hug. He made sure his metal arm was light on her shoulders, the human one tight on her waist as he drew her into him. 

She was tall, but he could still tuck her head comfortably under his chin. His eyes watered when he heard her start crying, quiet as a mouse. But the room was silent, and she was close, so he heard anyways. 

"We will find those boys Allura." He said, almost cringing at calling her by her name. That isn't how you speak to royalty, but then again, the last royal person he spoke to on Earth didn't cry into his shoulder out of guilt. 

"You need to get some rest, give your mind a break. I'll take over from here, and I'll wake you if anything important happens." Shiro continued. He felt her jerk back, and prepare to protest, but he held firmer and shook his head on top of hers. 

"No, you will do as I say, or I will take drastic measures to make sure you do. Please, they don't need you to be worse than they are when we bring them home." Shiro said, relieved when she slumped and nodded. They parted and Shiro looked away while she wiped her eyes, then he sent her to her room. 

Now it was Coran's turn. The man needs to rest before he does irreparable damage to the ship in his haste. After that it's Pidge, who will put up the most fight. But Hunk wasn't here to make her sleep, so Shiro will. 

Until those boys come home. 

And they _will_ come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole thing during my hour lunch break. Wow...


	23. Hunky Hunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Hunk reunion.

This was pathetic. 

The wiring and make up of the cuffs that chained him to a wall was a lot more different than Keith expected. So escaping by disengaging the locking mechanism by snapping the wires was out of the question. After that he tried everything he could think of to escape.

Trying to rip the chains out of the wall. _Maybe if he had Allura’s strength_. Trying to unscrew the the wall panel. _There were no screws or fastenings of any kind. Like every bit of the ship was just carved from one big hunk of Galra metal._ Trying the old dislocated thumb method. _That only resulted in a throbbing ache in his hand for the next few hours._

Now he's resorted to chewing his way free.

So. Like he said. 

_Pathetic._

He finally gave his aching jaw a break and just slumped against the wall. Thumping his head on the wall wasn't helping his situation any, but he did it anyways for the satisfaction. He was still wearing his suit, so technically his Bayard was still there. 

Of course had he been able to form it he would have already broke out and slaughtered everyone here. Don't get him wrong, Keith takes no joy in killing, but it's just a part of war. But then again he's had time since he last saw his friends. 

Time to think.

The way Lance and Shemale interacted was familiar, not pleasant but familiar all the same. It wasn't difficult to figure out that Lance had meant Shemale when he was referring to his 'masters'. Which meant Lance was suffering.

And Keith was chained to a cell wall.

According to the rotation of guards walking the hallways, Keith assumed it's been a week now. A minimum of five days at the least. In those five days, his prison guards have only opened the doors once. And that was to chuck a roll of bread and a water pack at him. 

Thanks to the warning of _'make it last Red, you won't be getting much more for a few days'_ by one of the guards, followed by a round of laughter when he snarled back at them, he had smartly eaten as little as possible at a time. 

He felt bad for Hunk. The poor guy must be starving.

Keith was used to hunger though, so it didn't bother him too much when old aches in his stomach presented themselves. Ever since they came to space, he's been well fed and his body had rewarded him for it. Muscle mass, body weight, and overall healthiness had skyrocketed into the green category for Keith. 

Keith lazily tugged at his chains, his wrists bruised and sore, making him wince. 

Ever since they opened the door to feed him, he's been alone. It was a non issue of course, sort of. Like, he'd been alone for a year before he met his new friends. He'd been alone long before Shiro ever showed him some compassion. He's always been alone. 

But he's never been inactive.

It made him restless just sitting around. He's seen Hunk and Pidge alike just sit down to do something and not move for hours, but Keith couldn't. 

It was why he was always training. 

Not _just_ because there was nothing else for him to do. Not _just_ because he refused to be weak again, like when he lost Shiro. Not _just_ because he desperately needed to be able to protect his friends. 

He was just too restless to sit still. 

Keith stood up, his hands being pulled awkwardly to his left. When he's sitting they're above his head, but standing, they come about waist high. It made it difficult to move around, which was probably the point. 

He's already tried everything to stay active and not go crazy. He can't exercise unless wall push-ups count, and he can't pace because his maximum step length is two before things start aching at the shoulder. He can't do anything to keep his mind occupied except to listen to the guards when they change shifts. 

Keith flops back down onto his butt with a huff, shaking his crossed legs up and down like he's seen Lance do sometimes. Stimming he called it. At least it tempered the roar of his mind a little. 

It was in that moment that he heard something off about the steps outside of hall. It wasn't shift change yet, and no one really comes down the hall unless it's shift change. Also these steps are marginally louder thuds than the Galra he's heard so far, if not vaguely familiar.

He shuts his eyes, putting his ears to the floor to hear better. He learned to listen to footsteps as a way of telling people's moods. Habit after the many _unsavory_ foster homes he's been in. But these steps were so different.

For one, it wasn't a lazy saunter the guards all carry, not exited at the prospect of standing outside his cell for hours on end. These steps were fairly determined. And coming from the wrong direction. All footsteps come from the right, probably towards the main part of the ship. 

These were coming from the left. 

For two, they sounded off somehow. Galra steps were slightly different sounding than human steps. When humans walk there are two thumps on the ground, heel and toe. For Galra, it's one thump. They just plant their feet instead of rolling into the movement.

These steps were like little hesitant, one thumps. They stride determinedly for sure, but there is a hesitancy between feet.

For three, they weren't slowing down. Actually it was the opposite. 

_Are they..?_

_Are they running?_

The steps of his guard are two steps forward, before they take several steps back in a shuffle, a small thud of their back against the wall. The running footsteps don't stop and Keith is certain he hears a distinct _thuh-thud_ with every foot of the approaching person. 

Said person's feet leave the ground and not even a second later Keith scrambles back as a distinctly person shaped dent forms in his wall. His mouth is dropped open, shock locking up his knees as he stands and he immediately shifts into as much of a threatening stance as he can. 

Merely moments after his scowl goes up does the door open and he blinks in shock.

No wonder those footsteps sounded so familiar.

**They're Hunk’s.**

Five to seven days of separation make Hunk look extremely different. It's not that he's lost weight, if it was that easy to lose weight all of Earth would starve themselves to achieve it. Just because the social norm isn't so strict on body appearances, doesn't mean most people won't take the opportunity.

But Hunk was different. 

Perhaps it was in the way he stood, like a bull rearing to charge. Or perhaps it's because his headband was loose around his neck, his black hair flopping into his eyes with sweat. Or perhaps it's his face. 

The look Hunk wore was horror inducing. 

He looked so _murderous._

Keith has seen Hunk happy. Big smile, bright eyes, lots of hugs. Keith has seen Hunk sad. Gentle frown, creased eyebrows, distant eyes. He has seen Hunk annoyed. Lips in a line, furrowed eyebrows, twitchy eye. But never has he seen Hunk like _this._

Hunk’s eyes were wide, but not with fear. The dark of his iris is swallowed whole by the black of his pupil. His lips were scowling, top lip pulled up to reveal what would have been fangs if he was Galra or canine. His nose was scrunched from the baring of his teeth, and his eyebrows were low. 

The black hair falling into his face was long, covering his entire left eye. _There was a cut on his cheek._ Hunk was panting, angry, and frankly, Keith wasn't exactly sure if he was sane in that moment. 

He was chained up, if Hunk saw him as an enemy in his bloodlust- because by God, that's exactly what Hunk is experiencing- then Keith was helpless.

Thank heavens for Hunk’s kind nature though, because the man straightened to full height- When did he get so tall?- and strode almost calmly to Keith. His lips were still pulled back in a snarl, slightly more subdued than before. But he wasn't talking, which made Keith shrink back just a little. 

Hunk noticed, if the twitch in his eyebrows were any indication, but the man just ripped off the cuffs on Keith's wrists.

That's right.

Hunk _ripped_ his _cuffs_ off the _wall_ and _ **shattered**_ them in his _bare hands._

Hunk was already at the door to his cell by the time Keith looked up from his shock, and they locked eyes over Hunk’s shoulder. His face had calmed considerably, but he was still furious. 

"Well?" Hunk said after a moment of silence. The alarms blared then and they both spared a quick look out the door before locking eyes again. "Are you coming or not Keith?"

And so they left to rescue Lance and escape.

Although it turned out it wasn't quite in that order.


	24. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge fixes the castle, sorta.

Tensions castleside was at an all time high.

In the first few days following the monumental disaster that caused their teammates to get captured were fine. Sure, the four of them were split in two pairs to divide and conquer but the pairs worked as a larger entity. 

Now though? 

They were fractured. 

It's been eight days in total by Pidge’s calculations, seeing as the castle was too damaged to run a day cycle. Lights were out, but the paladin suits worked fine, having an individual power source to work off of. Of course, it wouldn't last forever but they didn't need forever.

Just until the castle was up and running. 

The first three days the castle had full power but couldn't lift off, but that power shut off on day four, and on day six tensions have escalated. It wasn't easy living with the same seven people on one ship, without leaving for indeterminate periods of time as it was. Add on the lives of their friends and the lives of themselves, and the fact that were down to four, and things get rocky naturally.

Pidge tugged at the collar of her undersuit, something she has only taken off to use the facilities. Other than that she has not left the suit off at any time. The computer in the armor was the only one she had left to work with, her laptop having died on day five and her console was turned off with the rest of the ship. 

She had felt better after Shiro forced her to sleep on day four, but since then it has only been kitten naps. An agreement Pidge made with Shiro, so he wouldn't come forcing her to waste time on sleep. If she took short hour long naps throughout the day he would be satisfied. 

Now she regrets not just sleeping like a normal person, but it's not like she can stop now. They were almost done fixing the power core, Coran and her. Allura and Shiro tried to help but without detailed knowledge of the ship or of advanced technology they just got in the way.

If only Hunk were here. 

Hunk would have gotten the ship up and running by now, ready to take on Zarkon himself. But he wasn't here. He was locked up. With Keith and Lance. As a Galran prisoner. 

Pidge dropped her wrench to her side, wiping sweat and a substance so much like grease it gave her nostalgia off her forehead. It was time for some real sleep, except it isn't. Not until the boys come home. 

Not until her family comes home.

It's weird. She can't recall when she started to connect these people she fought and killed alongside, with her gentle family back home and lost in space. 

Keith reminded her of her mother, oddly enough. Slightly closed off to the world but the most open and caring person when you get under their armor. 

Hunk was like her father. Brilliant, compassionate, funny, and understanding. He seemed to be one of the few people on the ship who understood her thought process so intimately. Because he shared her thought process. 

Lance was a lot like Matt. Flirtatious, funny, always the one to break the tension. They were the people who kept the air breathable in the darkness. They knew how to read people, how to read situations. They knew when to be serious and when to slack off, and what the best way to make someone laugh was. 

Lance was an older brother figure she hoped she never lost like Matt. But she did. Pidge lost him, and it was all because she couldn't get rid of that _God damn virus_ fast enough. She wouldn't blame herself, not yet. She'll wallow in self depreciation as soon as her brothers were safe. 

All of them. 

Hunk, Keith, Matt and Lance. 

_Her brothers._

She will bring them home, no matter the consequences. Even in death she will protect them. Never again will Zarkon and his minions ruin and rip her family apart. 

Pidge opened her eyes, a new sort of fire and calmness in her heart. Pieces of machinery and technology were scattered in front of her as she fought to fix the problem. 

She could do this.

She _will_ do this. 

On day eight the ship had power again.

~~~

On day nine the team fractured. 

After the power came back on enough for Allura and Shiro to start searching, first thing that happened was the ping of a distress beacon. Because of _course_ the team would get swamped with Paladin duties when they _literally_ only have the head and an arm of Voltron.

Allura had already began planning out the mission, Shiro at her side, when Pidge stopped them. She was 100 percent ready to abandon this planet or whatever it is to its destruction in order to find her brothers. 

Maybe that was kind of heartless.

 _Sounded_ of kind of heartless.

But she refused to allow her new brothers to slip away, not that she _called them that_ of course. That was a little _too_ much closeness to allow these people regarding herself. 

So the reception to her protests were exactly as she assumed they would be, for the most part anyways. Allura blew up at Pidge, because she was the real hothead on this team, not Keith. Going on and on about not abandoning anyone to save a few, they were there to protect the universe no matter the cost, blah blah, blah blah blah. 

And of course, Shiro agreed. Because he's a weakling and too full of human formalities to disrespect royalty so outright. Pidge can remember the look on his face when she called Allura out so long ago. 

_Oh princess of what..._

Good times. Good times. 

So anyways. Yeah, those two were too obvious to predict. However her predictions placed Coran as the neutral party, meaning Pidge was going to get outvoted. Again. The amount of times she got out voted because of Dad and Matt back home were uncanny. This was no different.

But then something happened. A fucking miracle. Coran picked a side. And he picked _hers_. Let's just say Pidge saw the old Altean in a completely new light. 

So here they were, in a classic standoff. Paladin against Paladin, Altean against Altean. It was painful for all of them, being so torn apart. As if without her brothers they weren't stable enough to function. Allura broke the stare off with Pidge and whirled around to accept the call from the beacon, leaving Pidge to shout silently.

To get something clear, not even Pidge could have predicted this.

With all of her knowledge and nerdy abilities, as Lance called them, this wasn't something they could have foreseen without crazy fantasy magic that only exist in fairytales.

Because on screen were two of her brothers. They were dirty, and beaten up, and one had a cut on his cheek but it was them. Hunk and Keith. 

Alive. 

They were alive. 

A weight lifted from all of them, and suddenly the rip in the cloth was sewn back together. It was still frayed and holed and missing a piece or two, but her family cloth was being repaired and it made her heart sing. 

_"Hailing Castle of Lions. Heard you were missing two paladins."_ Keith said from the pilot seat, his humor dry and fractured. Hunk was leaning over him to be in frame, his headband drooped lazily at his collar.

Pidge looked past her emotions and looked the boys over. They were banged up, faces a little sunken from a multitude of things. Hunger, dehydration, lack of sleep. Their faces were drawn and pinched and Hunk looked... _off._ All in all though, other than that they seemed fine and Pidge couldn’t see why no one was whooping with joy. 

_It hit her the same moment Shiro broke the reunion up._

"Where's Lance?"


	25. Mission Launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team go after Lance.

Shiro was lost on what to do.

Keith and Hunk had just finished telling the story of their escape, Keith actually telling the main bits of it. Hunk merely interrupted to correct Keith or add in little extra details. Hunk was exceptionally quiter ever since he returned, but Shiro just assumed that it was due to his worry over Lance. 

According to the boys, Hunk was the first to break free. He had shattered the cuffs on his wrists in anger, and then broke off a piece of metal to get to the door's wiring. Keith had interjected that their were no screws or anything, but Hunk simply raised an eyebrow and demonstrated how he did it. 

Right in front of their eyes they watched as Hunk ripped a chunk of metal off of the wall, dented up from his grip. Allura and Coran had squawked in anger at him, but Hunk just promised to fix it later. 

Shiro was glad Hunk was on their side, strength like that was terrifying to face.

After Hunk took out the guards he had stolen some of their armor, blending in as much as a man his size could. He got to Keith's cell, and body slammed his guard before opening the door. Shattered Keith's cuffs, then they went on into their escape.

This was where Keith took over. They had both tried to find Lance's cell, but they were ambushed and outnumbered. Even with their Bayards they were no match and it was either flee now, save Lance later, or stay and probably get thrown in another cell with far less ability to get free. 

Safe to say they chose path one.

Shiro had to assure them that what they did was the right choice, Pidge nodding along through her silent tears. They didn't fall, her tears that is, but they gathered all the same. 

So now Shiro was lost. 

The others were all pitching in to help, Shiro included, but without Lance there, the mood was somber. And it stayed somber for the next three days.

It took two days to locate Lance. One more to get the ship in working condition, even if it wasn't at the best of states. Hunk, Pidge and Coran had taken turns taking short naps, so that the castle always had two people working on it. Shiro, Keith and Allura did the same involving finding Lance. And on the day after they found him, waiting for the ship to fly, they spent it strategizing their rescue mission. 

Day twelve they were ready for the mission.

Day thirteen the Castle of Lions launched.

~~~

They weren't doing so hot.

They had launched their rescue mission already. The plan was so: Pidge would take the Green Lion and use its cloaking to get close to the ship. She would then remotely hack into their systems to locate Lance and any other prisoners on board. Green would also be carrying Hunk and Coran. 

Hunk would be the muscle, there to protect and escort Coran to Lance's cell once they have his location. Coran would be there for medical assistance, in case Lance was badly injured. Allura had initially protested the idea when Pidge had suggested it, but Pidge won. They couldn't risk it.

So for the first time since they became Team Voltron, Coran stepped into the battlefield, away from the ship. While Hunk, Pidge, and Coran worked that angle, Shiro, Keith and Allura would attack the forces head on.

Allura would be piloting Blue, so long as Blue allowed it of her. And for the first time, Blue opened up without complaint. Only after Allura explained the plan of course. 

This left the castle vulnerable yes, but the ship was too damaged to do anything more than sustain oxygen level, hold a barrier, keep one healing pod at full power and wormhole. This couldn't be done all at once though. Two maximum was the limit of anything working at the same time, only one while wormholing.

It left them with no choice but to shut off everything but the power core, which kept the ship from exploding, and the healing pod. This left the entire mission to be operated under strict time limits. They couldn't spare any moments for missteps that would leave the mission off course. 

After Hunk and Coran boarded with the prisoners and Lance, Pidge was to immediately make her way to the castle, escorted by Allura and Blue. Shiro and Keith were to keep the enemy off the rest of the team's backs. Once castleside, Allura would immediately break off to the control room. She would activate the oxygen, and then power on the ship. 

Then Pidge, Hunk and Coran were to board and allow the prisoners to make their way to the pod room. In there, the team had set up a stack of oxygen masks, where every prisoner was to slip on a mask. 

Then Allura would get the ship ready to wormhole, and call back Shiro and Keith. The moment the two of them boarded, the oxygen would be shut off and the ship would wormhole to a safe location predetermined only by Coran. In case another disaster happened and a teammate was captured, they couldn't disclose the location of the castle. 

So in other words, they only had three lions available to fight. 

The plan had gone sideways though because Keith and Red had been hit hard by an ion canon, and while neither of them were particularly injured, Red needed to reboot her systems before she could fight again. That left them down a lion for a total of three minutes.

Shiro and Allura were circling around each other and Keith, keeping the drones and fighter jets occupied. His biggest fear was that they would be overpowered in those moments, but it seemed that they had Lady Luck on their side tonight. 

Pidge popped up on his screen next to Allura’s, her face illuminated by Green's soft glow. Her face was pinched and focused and slightly panicked, but her voice was level. Almost monotone, emotionless. 

_"Ready to move onto phase two. Green Lion is loaded and Lance is secure."_ Pidge said. There was a wet sloshing sound behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder briefly with a wince. When she looked back at the screen, her eyes were watery, and her voice cracked. _"He's badly injured though, so let's get this over with."_

Keith's face popped up right then, making Shiro loose a little tension in his shoulders. _"Red is online Shiro. Ready to fight."_ Keith looked determined, and Shiro nodded. 

_"Alright team. Phase two commence. Allura, Pidge, get to the castle. Keith, on me. Don't let the enemy get past."_ Shiro called out in a commanding tone. The three faces in front of him nodded in sync.

Green zipped passed him, shooting down a line of fighters to clear the way and Blue whirled around to dart after her. Shiro and Keith regrouped, blocking off any of the enemy fighters to follow their friends. It was a grueling three minutes before Pidge called out to begin Phase three before her and Allura’s faces left his dash. 

Slowly, Shiro and Keith began edging back, allowing the enemy to push forward. They activated their helmets right then while they still could, and waited for the signal. 

Finally, _finally,_ after a few minutes of taxing battle, the castle hailed them and Allura popped up on his dash, now in the bridge. She stood at the teleduv already, her hands placed and ready to activate the wormhole. Coran was with her, both of them wearing their own bodysuits, helmets already lowered on their faces. 

Shiro ignored the blood on Coran's body, smeared on his hands and stomach and legs. 

_"Paladins! Return! Prepare for wormhole!"_ Allura said, Coran darting to and fro as he set up his coordinates. Shiro nodded at her firmly before they cut the connection to just radio.

 _"Shiro, I've landed, fall back."_ Keith said. His face was still on Shiro’s dash, so he hasn't left the Red Lion. Shiro narrowed his eyes at the enemy. 

A new wave was approaching, and Shiro dodged and ion canon blast before deeming it okay to run and then he flipped around. It was a completely Lance move, backwards barrel rolling, while shooting at the remaining fighter jets of the last wave. 

Then Shiro righted himself and made his way back to the castle. Shiro landed safely and the rolling of his stomach said they already were wormholing to safety. When the sensation passed and Shiro could stand, he ran down Black's ramp and met Keith. 

Shiro spared a moment to clap Keith on the shoulder with a tired smile, one which Keith returned, and then together they ran to the pod room. 

They had finally brought Lance home. 

Now they just had to deal with whatever damage had been done to him.


	26. The Doctor Is In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pod rejects Lance.

_The pod rejected him._

Lance that is. 

When Pidge tried to get him into the healing pod with Hunk, it only took two seconds before Lance was falling out again. They tried one more time before Coran returned, getting the same results as before. Coran had only just entered the room, tailed closely by Allura, and Keith and Shiro soon after. 

Coran had rushed to Lance's side when he saw him fall out of the pod and into Hunk’s arms, immediately taking over the situation. He led them all to a room off to the side they used for minor injuries like scrapes. Things that aren't life threatening. 

It was a decently sized room, lined with coubtertops on the far wall from the door. Cabinets were above the counters, and against the left wall was a metal table. Shiro was ordered to bring the table to the center of the room, which was done in haste. Hunk then laid Lance down gently, Keith pressing a pillow he produced out of nowhere underneath his head. 

"What's going on Coran?" Pidge asked. Her heart was racing, and her palms were sweaty in her gloves, which she promptly removed.

Coran shook his head, before he started talking. "The pods only reject a person if something inside their body isn't in the right place." He said. "Take a broken bone for example. The bone must be reset if it is out of place so that the pod doesn't heal it wrong. We fixed the pods ten thousand years ago, so that they would automatically reject someone unless those problems were fixed." 

Hunk stepped forward slightly and she could see the fear in his eyes. "So what needs to be fixed?" He asked, to which Coran shrugged helplessly. 

"I don't know. The biology of humans is vastly different from anything I know, despite the similarities to Alteans. We may look alike, but our systems are not like yours." Coran said, his accent heavy with remorse and pain. Pidge froze, thinking about everything she knew about human biology.

It was a required knowledge for anyone training in the space program at the Garrison, but the teachers aren't all that strict in it, so most students got by just guessing and that was that. But not herself. She had too much of a thirst for knowledge in everything she could get her hands on, and had thoroughly enjoyed going through her lessons. 

"I can." Pidge exclaimed. Her words had shut down a conversation turning argument on what they were supposed to do, occurring between Shiro, Allura and Coran. 

They all turned to her. "You can what Pidge?" Shiro asked. He wasn't harsh about it, just genuinely confused. 

"I can advise Coran on what is normal for human biology and what is not. We can save Lance." She said, conviction starting to flow through her veins. She wasn't a trained doctor, no, but she was the best option they had.

Coran was untaught on human biology. The Castle was practically falling apart so they couldn't wormhole to any planet versed in medical practices. And no one else on the team knew half as much details as she did.

It was the only way.

It took only a few seconds of silence for everyone to step aside and let her close to Lance. When she looked down at him pain in her heart made her hesitate.

He was so beaten up.

They had had to strip him for the pod, and they left him in only his boxers to preserve modesty, and keep Pidge from burning her eyes out of her head. So everything was on display.

The huge bruise on his side and abdominal area, purple and black in color. The many cuts and scrapes and lacerations across his arms and legs and chest. His human eye was swollen and black, and there was a bruise on his jaw. 

Claw marks on his shoulder just deep enough to draw blood that had already clotted. A split in his lip right next to a tiny scar. 

_And oh God the scars._

Lines. Curves. A branding of the Galra symbol on his hip. A piece of his ear missing, the one that had been hidden by the mask he no longer wore. There were a few small burn marks, kind of circular, like cigarette burns. Puffed up pink scars, scars that dipped into his skin. 

It was horrific.

They had all seen Shiro without a shirt, he took it off sometimes when he's training and it's just too damn hot to wear it. He has scars too. But nearly as much as Lance does. 

Pidge swallowed down her pain and reached out to lay a hand on Lance's chest, feeling his breathing. It was labored and shallow, and Lance winced in his unconsciousness when she pressed down in the center of his chest. His skin was also pale and clammy to the touch. She moved her hand up to his neck to feel his racing pulse, fluttering too fast to be healthy. 

Then she moved to the huge bruise on his abdominal area. It was hard under her fingers, and it caused Lance to whimper and shift his head. Pidge stopped a sob in her throat as she moved to his face. 

She pried open his eyes, which were dilated, the pupil swallowing up his dark blue irises.

Pidge swallowed and motioned for Coran to hand her the scanner. He did so silently. In fact the entire room was silent. They were all waiting for her diagnosis, but she wasn't a doctor. 

She couldn't do this. 

_What if she was wrong and made things worse?_ God, she doesn't even have a _theory_ of what could be wrong.

She shook those thoughts from her mind and scanned his body, the three seconds it took feeling like eternity. She couldn't let Lance down, she couldn't let her brother die. 

Not like this. Not ever.

The scanner was knocked out of her hand when the entire ship rattled and tilted before going upright again. Shiro and Allura rushed out of the room, followed by Keith. It was only moments before Shiro returned alone, his face creased in worry and the look he has when it's time to go to battle.

"The ship is under attack. Coran, Pidge, stay here and get Lance fixed up. Hunk, the rest of us will be protecting the castle. We'll be putting up the particle barrier, so the pod will be out of commission until Lance is ready." Shiro said, his words were rushed, and neither Coran or Pidge had a chance to speak before he and Hunk were gone. 

Pidge looked at Coran with what she could only describe as horror taking hold of her emotions. This planet was supposed to be safe. _How did the Galra-?_

**Lance.**

The realization hit her like a train. Lance once said he had a tracker embedded into his Galra eye. God. _How could they be so stupid?_ Of _course_ the Galra would use this against Voltron. No wonder they had been able to find the Castle so many times before, since Lance joined the team he's been a homing beacon. 

But his mask was supposed to block out the signal right? But that would only mean that either the Galra were tracking them another way or-

_The mask was a fake._

Pidge shook it all away. Right now she has to focus on Lance. She had to figure out what was wrong and fix it so he could go into the pod to heal. Meanwhile her friends were forced on defense, fighting without her. 

_Again._

This time will be different though. This time she won't be too late. She'll protect her family if it's the last thing she does.


	27. Surgeries and Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins, and Lance goes to surgery.

Shiro wasted no time in setting up the team for battle. 

Keith and Hunk were already in their lions and joining the battle. The particle barrier was up and functioning, although it felt wrong putting the pod out of commission for the time being. Now Shiro just had to get Allura in the Blue Lion. 

Easier said then done. 

Shiro had gotten as far as subtly guiding her to Blue's hangar while they talked battle strategy, before she figured out what he was doing. She had whirled on him so quickly it was inhuman. Then again, she isn't human in the first place.

"What are you doing Shiro?" Allura questioned. She was standing tall, her arms crossed and her eyes glaring as cold as ice down her nose at him. Despite him actually being taller, he felt small under her gaze.

"We need you to pilot the Blue Lion Allura, we can't defend the Castle with only three lions." Shiro explained, ever the patient one. Allura relented, slumping her shoulders a little as she realized he was correct. 

They had no escape route. No back up from the castle and they were already down the Green Lion and her Paladin. If the Lions failed this time, Voltron was done for. 

"She won't take me Shiro, I'm not her Paladin." Allura said, her voice slightly sad. She was no longer bitter about the Blue Lion's rejection, no matter how small her bitterness was. 

Shiro shook his head, pressing a guiding hand to her back so he might steer her to Blue's hangar. The lion was towering over them, tall and strong and fierce even without being in battle. "Just try, please." 

They looked into each other's eyes, and Allura relented to Shiro’s steady gaze. She placed a hand on Blue's particle barrier before launching backwards with a gasp. She placed a hand to her mouth to conceal her sob, and Shiro rushed to her side. 

"What's wrong Allura? What happened?" He said. Allura was slow to respond, her gaze never leaving the Blue Lion. 

"She's mourning Shiro." She said. Finally she looked at him, her eyes watering. "She's mourning Lance." 

Shiro jerked backwards, slamming his helmet on and immediately radioing Pidge. Realization set in after Pidge curtly assured that Lance breathed before going radio silent.

Blue didn't believe Lance was going to survive.

Shiro strode to her barrier, placing a bare hand firmly down before shutting his eyes. He reached out to Black and her imposing presence in his mind. She was stable, calm and ready when he was to go to battle. But he didn't need Black, he needed Blue, and Black gently sent him flying on air to Blue's ocean shore. 

In his mind, he could go no further than where sand met open sky. He couldn't touch her waves, but he was sure Lance drowned in them. So Shiro just sat down in his mindscape and touched his hands to the sand. 

Her waves were rocky, like the water during hurricanes back on Earth, and Shiro could swear the drops that hit his mind were tears.

"Blue." He said, both in reality and in his mind. It was surreal, like he was in two places at once. "Listen to me Blue."

Shiro breathed through his nose as the waves retreated, and he knew she was gearing up to form a Tsunami. But he pushed out to her anyways. 

"Lance still lives, and he will continue to live. My people, my race, we are not the most durable of Aliens out there. This is true, and this is unchangeable. But we are not fragile either." He continued. The waves stopped retreating for a Tsunami, and instead swallowed up some of the sand in his mind. They were now only a few feet away from where Shiro’s hand crossed from open air into ocean sand. 

"Lance will pull through this, because there have been times when people, my race, had gone through far worse than what Lance is. And some made full recoveries." Shiro leaned forward, his forehead pressed against the barriers both in his mind and in reality.

"He will survive Blue, because he's a fighter, and he's stubborn. He won't abandon you. Do you trust me?" He said. He watched as the waves in his mind settled, slowly becoming calmer. They weren't still, but they weren't wild either. Briefly, a single wave crept across the sand and engulfed his hand in water.

He felt it then, Blue's emotions. They were of fear and sorrow and anger. But there was also a message Shiro read loud and clear.

_Trust you, Black Cub. Trust you._

Shiro smiled, and slowly retreated from the connection to Black. He knew better than to rip away from the mental link to his lion abruptly. The only time it happened Shiro was so sick he couldn't move for two days.

When he finally drew away from the connection, only a few minutes had passed, unlike the hours he spent in his connection. He turned to Allura and gestured for her to go past the barrier. She walked forward confidently, but she hesitated moments before touching the barrier.

Shiro gently grabbed her stilled wrist and guided it forward, watching as she passed through without a problem. Blue leaned down and opened her mouth, and Allura smiled as she ran up Blue's ramp. 

He waited until she had launched before making his way to Black and following after Allura. His helmet was on now, and he raced out to the desert surrounding the castle to find a battle in full swing. 

Time to get to work. 

Shiro and the others fought only for a few minutes before their comms were taken over by Pidge’s voice. 

_"Alright everyone. Listen up. I know you're all worried for Lance, so this is only time I'll have to update you."_ She said. Her voice was serious, not even a crack in her tone or a hesitancy in her words.

No one interrupted her.

_"Lance is in pretty bad shape, but I guess that was obvious. I've pinpointed three problems that are major enough to warrant a rejection from the pod, so I'll start from the lowest point on his body and move upward."_ Pidge said, barely stopping to breath.

Shiro quickly interjected to order Keith to cover Hunk, who was getting swamped with fighter jets. 

_"First is his pancreas, and for those who might not know, it's a gland behind the stomach that produces digestive enzymes and several hormones. There is a tear in the wall of the pancreas and Coran will be doing open surgery to seal it up using fancy Altean tech."_ Pidge continued, before there was a slight pause of silence on the comms. _"It warrants concern because if the enzymes are left to leak out of his pancreas they will proceed to digest his insides, which is a bad thing."_

_"Next is his chest cavity. There are three fractures in his ribs which aren't a concern for the pod, but one of his middle ribs broke and punctured his right lung, causing it to collapse. We might need to go into surgery to fix that as well, but we aren't sure how bad it is yet."_ She said. Shiro gripped his controls tightly as he dodged an ion blast before shooting a line in the warship. Maybe Lance worse than he realized.

_"Last but not least, his eye. His Galra one to be exact. This isn't quite a concern for the pod as it is for us. The only reason the Galra tracked us down when only Coran knew the coordinates was because of the tracker in his eye. Whoever betrayed Lance, switched his mask for a fake one, and we have been tracked down because of it for weeks."_ Pidge paused, and it was probably to let it sink in. Shiro cursed, forgetting his comms were on, but not caring enough to do something about it.

It made sense now. 

Ever since Lance joined the team, things have just gone nonstop. Attacks, ambushes, missions. They all just started coming at them all, one after another. 

Shiro didn't speak agin, so Pidge picked up where she left off. 

_"I'm going to try and remove the tracking device now so when the castle is ready for a wormhole jump we won't be tracked again. These three procedures and are extremely difficult, especially since I'm not actually trained and Coran isn't versed on human biology. So I won't be on comms until we're finished. Either when Lance is in the pod, or if he dies."_ There was a silence filled with grief in that moment, but he knew Pidge would never let Lance die.

_"We believe in you Pidge."_ Hunk said. It was the first time since Pidge gave them the run down that anyone but he or her spoke. And it relieved the tension too.

_"Wish me luck guys."_ Pidge said. And then the rest of the team were left to protect the castle. 

Anything for their Blue Paladin.


	28. Surgery Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's surgery is a success while the castle remains under seige.

A few hours of near constant battle passed. So much so it made even the Lions weary. Didn't help that everyone was worried about a certain Blue Paladin.

All of the Lions were a constant press into the Paladins' minds, worried for the _Blue Cub_ as they called Lance. Shiro wished that he could reassure all of them, friends and Lion alike, but neither Pidge nor Coran had contacted the team since the last and only update they were given.

He was just as in the dark as everyone else. 

The Black lion shuddered around Shiro as they took a hit. He whipped around and immediately decimated the enemy on his tail. Shiro sighed, trying to roll the tension out of his neck.

"Paladins, report, what's everyone's status?" Shiro called into the comms. Chatter over the radio had dwindled down to nothing but Shiro’s commands and demands of reports.

They were all just too tired.

If they could just run this fleet into retreat long enough to get a chance to rest their bodies, then it wouldn't be so bad. This specific fleet was guided by someone clever. They didn't send all of their fleet to attack in one giant burst of power like most. 

No, these attacks were calculated.

After defeating the first wave, the team had flown back towards the Castle, but that meant they had given ground. On land, the fighters were bound by the laws of gravity, so they couldn't just fly upwards with abandon to take the fight to the air. It was an advantage the Lions held.

After they had given ground there was another wave, and every time the front line was left undefended another wave of the enemy attacked. 

So they adjusted where the team would rotate on who was guard of the front line, but then there were attacks from other directions. Now the four of them were separated, forced to all stand guard at a different point of the compass. 

Since the waves appeared random, and none of them had Pidge’s eyes for patterns and code, they were forced to stay on alert at all times. The worst was when they attacked all sides at once, because no one can rush to the aid of others. 

Shiro had to rely on the faith of his team's flying capabilities.

_"This is Hunk, all clear on my part. I haven't been attacked in two waves so I'm on alert."_ Hunk called. Again Shiro noticed that something was different about Hunk. 

His voice itself was odd to listen to. 

Less emotion, not even the hint of a smile or reassurance. Just, sort of monotone, but threatening. It was completely unlike Hunk, and that fact scared Shiro.

What could have happened to Hunk on that ship to cause such a change?

His thoughts were interrupted by Keith, who sounded slightly annoyed, although not at any of them. _"This is Keith, engaging in another wave. This is third wave to hit me in a row. Good thing these attacks are small I guess."_

Shiro frowned but listened as Allura gave her report. She was kind of slurring her words from exhaustion. So far she has been in constant battle since they took their points. _"Finishing off my wave. Already see another approaching over the hill."_

Shiro scowled before turning his attention to Hunk even as he finished off his own enemies. _"Hunk take Allura’s place, Allura you're taking Hunk’s. I won't let you run yourself down to the bone."_ There was only a slight huff from Allura, but Shiro noticed Hunk zooming across the Plains where they had set up their points. 

They were each maybe a mile or so from the castle, which was nestled in between two cliffs with the barrier up. 

Poor Allura. Since she isn't technically the Blue Paladin, it takes more energy for her to form the connection to the Lions. It's fine in short bursts, when she just needs to commute with them, although Coran does force her to rest for a minimum of a varga afterwards.

That, added on top of the constant battle and fighting, she must be on the verge of passing out. She's just too stubborn to allow herself to pass out yet. Not until they were all secure in the castle without threat of destruction.

_"Listen."_ Shiro began, his voice softening. _"I know this is tiring, and I know we're all worried about Lance, but we have to keep fighting."_ He tightened his hands on the controls of Black, even though they were seated on the ground in watchful anticipation.

_"If we give up now, we won't see Lance again. Pidge and Coran are working around the clock to get him healed so trust in them okay? We have to trust-"_ Shiro was cut off by a voice that made tension release from everyone on the team. Despite the antagonizing tone she held.

_"Well aren't you sweet, who knew you were such a softy."_ Pidge called, although he could hear the lightness in her tone so he didn't take offense. 

_"Pidge!"_ Hunk called out. His voice was back to normal, full of his anxious babbling. _"How's Lance? How's Coran? The refugees? How about the castle, is it still standing? What-"_ Pidge laughed and cut Coran off.

_"Hunk, please, breath."_ She said. All of them could hear her smile even through the comms. _"The surgeries were all successful, although there was a brief complication involving the lung in heart."_

Shiro spoke before the others could bombard her with more questions. "Tell us everything you can, Pidge."

She happily obliged.

_"The Pancreas surgery was actually a lot simpler than I assumed. We drained the excess fluid and Coran used micro sized Altean laser technology, sewing the tear shut without more than a single cut to get to the pancreas."_ There was a pause and suddenly, instead of just radio, she and Coran were in the bridge and looking them in the faces. Blood was smeared all over the both of them though, making them look like they walked through a blood bath. 

_"The lung however, collapsed like I said, and it wouldn't take to reinflating by a needle to the chest. We opened him up, and realized that the broken rib had moved closer to his heart than we thought. The procedure was taxing and long, but we pulled the rib back into place and reinflated the lung."_ Pidge paused to clean a smear of blood from her glasses, before continuing like nothing was amiss. 

_"It was the eye that took the longest. I had to carefully cut the device from his spine, and we drained the corrupt quintessence from the eye."_

This is where Coran took over. _"After that we smashed some Balmera crystals into a powder to make into a liquid which is the new source of his eye's power."_

Pidge finished their explanation with a smile. _"We won't know if it worked until he wakes up from the pod in just a few hours from now."_

A few seconds later she tacked on a fond, _"Good job guys."_

Shiro relaxed, letting Black take over on the alertness between the two of them. They've been taking turns on it so it was fair, which what he and his lion were all about.

Lance was okay.


	29. Watch This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron is pushed back by enemy forces and Lance does something stupid.

Allura felt like she would tip over with a gust of wind.

The seige had gotten worse as time passed. Lance was finally in a healing pod, but in order to have it running, they shut off the castle's oxygen. It was a difficult choice, one that could have cost them, but in the end it had been the right one. 

Once Lance was declared stable, Pidge and Green joined the fight. Since they had set up a system already with the four of them, Pidge would rotate out with the others. 

First one to get rest was Allura, by order of Shiro. Then it was Keith, who had fought almost as much as she did. Then Hunk, and then Shiro. They each got a varga to rest, which was spent in varying ways. 

Allura had immediately fell asleep, even before Blue touched down inside the barrier. Keeping up a connection with any of the Lions was a difficult task, and she was drained. The varga long nap she took practically jumpstarted her energy. 

She didn't sleep much anyways, so the little rest she gets always makes her feel better.

Hunk spent it at Lance's side in the pod room. Keith spent it checking his lion for damage. When it was time for Shiro's turn, they were suddenly bombarded with enemy fire. The five of them had been caught off guard, and seperated for the fact. 

One by one, each of them were pushed back. 

Team Voltron had lost too much ground, and was forced to take the line of defense to the particle barrier of the ship. 

Now it was all they could do to hold that line. 

It's been at least approximately nine vargas since the beginning of the seige. Five of it, Pidge and Coran spent in surgery.

Allura had a far grander respect for the work her Paladins did. Flying the Lions was far more exhausting than she had realized. Or perhaps it was just her.

Allura snapped out of her thoughts as Shiro called out that another wave was approaching. This seemed to be the precipice of the seige now. Surrounding the castle from all sides was an army fit for land and air warfare alike.

Allura could already see the plan of the enemy in her mind. 

The foot soldiers would take to attacking and bringing down the barrier while the Voltron lions dealt with the enemy air support. And it was going to work too. They couldn't spare a single lion to allow for one of them to take on the ground fleet.

If only they could form Voltron right then.

It was all Allura’s fault that they couldn't too. She was too exhausted to complete the mental connection, which would also be more taxing on her than an actual paladin. And it was dangerous forming Voltron in that condition, because if she loses to her body, then the five of them would be forcibly disconnected.

Which wouldn't be a pleasant experience.

She had told Shiro of that, and he had agreed that they couldn't afford the risk. The ship was already damaged, it couldn't withstand a full scale seige for the amount of time it would take for both lion and paladin to get back up again. 

Allura grunted as she was rammed by a few suicidal fighter jets. The force of the impact caused them to explode, and Blue was thrown into the side of the cliff. The enemy had taken advantage of the ship's location between the cliffs to send suicide jets over the edge to crash into the barrier. 

Allura was tasked with keeping them off as much as she could.

Meanwhile the other four lions and her Paladins were kept occupied on the ground. It was when she turned Blue around to look down at then that she saw something she couldn't believe, right before a voice crackled in her ear.

 _"You guys look like you need some assistance."_ Lance said into the comms. He was rewarded with a round of cheers in the form of his name. Allura smiled as she felt Blue's waves rear up in excitement.

 _"Lance."_ Shiro called out in relief when everyone finally settled down. _"If you're feeling up to it, Allura can bring Blue in so you can take over."_

Allura zoomed in Blue's screen to get a better look at Lance. Blue was happy to have her eyes on Lance so Allura took over as their eyes to keep those suicide jets off the barrier. 

Lance was in his Paladin armour, which had been retrieved from the ship. It was slightly scuffed up and a little bloody too, but still intact. Also there were odd straps on his suit that didn’t belong. Lance took that moment to look up at Blue and it was like he was looking into Allura’s soul through the screen.

 _"No can do Shiro. These ground forces are slowly degrading the barrier's integrity, so someone has to handle that, and that's what I'm going to do."_ Lance said. Allura watched as he blinked and suddenly his eyes had changed. 

His human eye had glossed over like he was blind, while his Galra eye had turned from human looking to a gray metal. It was rounded just like the human eye, but instead of a pupil and iris, there was only a red circle which expanded and retracted constantly. Like he was refocusing a holo-screen. 

Or a camera as the humans called them.

Four geometrically formed lines that lit up blue from the Balmera crystals trailed out from the center of the red circle and over the curve of his metal eye, disappearing into his eye socket. 

He blinked again and his eyes returned to looking completely human.

It must be a sort of cloaking technology that changes the appearance of his Galra eye. Maybe his human one as well.

 _"Lance don't do anything stupid."_ Hunk warned. His voice was much lighter now that Lance was out of the pod. For the past few days he seemed like he was haunted by something. She knows, because she has the same look on her face when she wakes from a nightmare of Altea's downfall. 

She watched on her screen as Lance smiled innocently, his voice sugar sweet when he spoke into his comms. _"It won't be stupid, it'll be badass."_

 _"Lance, don't."_ Shiro said, a second too late because Lance was already darting to the edge of the barrier. The soldiers on the ground had already trained they're weapons on Lance and Allura heard Pidge scream in fear.

Lance drew out his two pistols, his Bayard still inactivated within his suit most likely. 

_"Watch this."_ Lance said with a smirk before darting out of the barrier's safety.

Allura really didn't like where that phrase was leading them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know it's weird, I reread this story from the beginning and I can literally see the way my writing style shifts.


	30. Quid Pro Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gears up for war.

**Two Varga/Hours earlier:**

Lance had fallen out of the healing pod to no one, landing face first on a pile of pillows so thick it felt like falling face first on a cloud. Correction. Lance fell out of the pod to no one catching him. 

Not like he could blame them.

Last time he fell out of a pod he attacked Shiro. This time probably would be worse, since last time he only _thought_ he was a prisoner again, and this time he actually _was_ a prisoner.

But he wasn't alone in the room, Coran was there.

"I thought it best to just let yourself gather your wits about you before I come close to you." Coran said, his voice soft and gentle. As if Lance was a scared little kid preparing to use his legs to run away.

Which actually felt a little true.

So once Lance realized he was really free again, he curled up in a ball. He jumped when Coran set a hand on his shoulder but he didn't move away. It's been a while since a hand was gentle on his skin. How long was he even held captive?

"You were held captive for a total of thirteen quintants, or days as you might call them." Coran supplied. Did he say that out loud or something or do Alteans have a mental presence where they could read minds? 

That would be cool.

"It took us twelve quintants to locate you, and thirteen to get the ship in working condition. You were badly injured though, and the pod wouldn't take you unless we performed emergency surgery." Coran said and Lance looked up into the man's eyes. They were creased at the corners, and were so kind.

Lance felt a sob rise in his throat but he simply pushed it down. He wanted to see his friends. Speaking of, why weren't they here with him? He brought the subject up, and Coran sighed and closed his eyes.

"Soon after we landed on this planet, we were attacked. The Castle was in no condition to fly, and we couldn't risk leaving you unattended for too long." Coran explained. His voice steadily became more strained as he talked. "So Pidge stayed behind to assist me in surgery while the others went to defend the Castle. It's been quite a few vargas since we became under seige and it seems as if we are losing."

Lance closed his eyes, and then jerked off the floor. His hand covered his Galra eye, where his mask was supposed to be. Lance whirled on Coran, who had fallen onto the floor in surprise, looking up at Lance. 

"My mask. Where's my mask? I can't go without it or," Lance trailed off and in his panic began switching in between his native tongue and English. His cousins and siblings usually broke off into a broken Spanish-English mix when they felt extremely in some way. Lance hated when he did it because his accent became a lot heavier. 

He had spent months training away his accent and perfecting his English so that he could pass the entry exam for the Garrison. It's not like they're racist or anything, but Lance had a higher chance of getting in without his accent. The Garrison itself isn't racist, but the proctor in Cuba was, and he hated the accent of Cuban Spanish speakers.

Ironic since Cuba was where he was stationed in the first place. Lance always suspected it was an assignment from a higher up who didn't like the Proctor, which Lance could understand. The man had been the definition of a stereotype racist. 

Older, white, with family ties to a racist era. Like a person who descended from a slaver in America who hated black people. 

The only thing that broke off Lance's broken Spanish-English mix was Coran and his strong hands on his shoulders. Lance stopped with a harsh inward breath that sounded more like a gasp. 

"Lance you don't have to be afraid anymore. Pidge and I went into surgery with the idea that we would also remove your tracker. It was a simple but delicate procedure and after we removed the tracker, we drained the corrupt quintessence from your eye and replaced it with Balmera crystals smashed into a liquid." Coran said, and Lance let out a shaky breath.

"If you be so kind as to test your eye real fast for me," Coran trailed off, and with a blink, Lance activated his Galra eye. He was expecting a purple haze, but his vision was clear of everything but the usual target circle and information just being fed into his brain. 

In fact, it was so clear that his vision was more precise than a human should possess. He could see so many different colors he's never even heard of before, shades and tints of the usual colors once invisible to the naked eye. 

It was beautiful.

Lance switched back to his human eye in awe. Coran was smiling at him, and now the universe seemed so dull around him. 

They were shaken out of the moment by a crash that obviously was something hitting the barrier of the castle, and Lance turned serious. "Where's my suit, and my pistols?" He asked. Coran was already shaking his head, but Lance just walked past him anyways.

"I don't know what's going on in that head hole of yours, but I'm saying no." Coran said. He had darted to stand between Lance and the pod room doors, but Lance just raised an eyebrow.

"Either give me my suit and weapons, or I'll walk out there in nothing but the pod suit." Lance shrugged. It was an ultimatum, and a nasty trick, but he wasn't backing away from this.

He's been left out of the battle long enough.

His friends had saved him from his own personal hell, and risked their lives in that moment just to keep this castle from falling to the ground. Just to keep Lance safe.

It's Lance's turn to protect them.

_Quid pro quo,_ as the saying goes. That, and Family comes first.

~~~

Walking out of the Castle's pod, which took him from Castle to ground, was the greatest feeling in the universe in that moment. Sure, it would have been even better if it was Earth he was stepping foot onto, but beggars can't be choosers right?

Coran had eventually relented after realizing just how serious Lance was. Made Lance promise to not do anything stupid. Which he did. 

His fingers were crossed behind his back, and maybe that makes him a child. But it worked. So Lance was suited up, although he did have a few extra adjustments to account for his pistols. 

The belt that goes with the suit had two packs on the side, which Lance just filled with extra clips for his guns. A dozen each. Where did he get all of this ammo, one may ask? 

When they had been at the Resistance base, Lance had snuck off to visit his weapon-est. Weapon-neer? Weapon-ologist? Pistol-ologist? _Whatever._ The woman who makes his pistols and the clips. 

While he was there, he collected a veritable stockpile. Three hundred clips to be exact. Was it overkill? Possibly. Was the discount worth it? Definitely. 

The hard part was getting them onto Blue in secret. Thank goodness he had his friends placed in a holding room before hand. One it was easier to locate them after his disaster of a meeting, which had only lasted about thirty minutes. The other hour and a half was dedicated to his pistols. 

Bayards are cool and all, but those guns are his babies. 

So anyways, yeah. A dozen clips in each of the packs, and on top of that he had his personal belts made just for major battles like this one. His hip belt was his favorite.

His Pistol-ologist, a female alien named Rinya, who Lance calls Rin for short, had a tech genius contact. The contact had designed this special belt of Lance's to hold eight clips on each side. The front clip stuck off the belt a little, and it made it easy for Lance to just drop his empties and slam the new clip into his guns. 

Best part?

There was some sort of conveyer belt tech (which isn't actually how it works but good enough) that slides the new clip forward. It's fucking awesome.

He also had a thigh holster, which held an extra, mini version of his pistols, but he only had two extra clips for that one. It was only there for emergencies. Like if he managed to run out of ammo. 

Probably wouldn't use it, since he had his Bayard, but still. This is war, gotta be prepared. He also had two knives strapped to his arms, only about as long as his fist, and a shoulder holster for three throwing knives. The straps of that one went over both shoulders and around his chest, to connect underneath his right arm.

So enough about his weapons. Time to join the fight.

_"You guys look like you need some assistance."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you all full permission to knock some sense into Lance before shit hits the fan. ;)
> 
> Also, I would love to see some fanart about this mix of resistance and voltron Lance. Just a suggestion, wink wink. ^_^


	31. Drive Me Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's pov as Lance goes badass arena mode.

Keith watched with a slackened mouth as Lance darted head first into a veritable army of foot soldiers all alone. The way he moved was completely different from the first time they watched him in the simulator.

Lance has always been agile, and he's always been someone to depend on in battle. Quick witted, clever, focused. He was good already, but this?

This was inhuman.

The moment Lance started fighting, was the moment the enemy was finally pushed out of the victory lane. 

First Lance decimated the ground forces, as if he had some clairvoyant sight that allowed him to see the future. As amazing as Galra and Altean technology is, Keith would be hard pressed to believe they could make something to see the future. But then again, the druids had magic, so that's a thing now.

Keith watched as Lance practically mowed over the enemy foot soldiers. The way his body moved was incredible. Twists and turns and jumps and bends and throwing the enemy around like they were nothing but a sack of potatoes.

Impossible. 

_Incredible._

After most of the ground forces had been torn apart, the fighters jets began to focus on Lance. Keith would have been worried had he not watched Lance lift a damaged fighter jet wing and throw it. 

Literally threw it like a three hundred pound frisbee. 

This must have been the work of Lance's eye. How? Keith had no clue, but it was the only explanation on the sudden strength and agility to Lance's movements.

He wanted one. 

Maybe not as permanently as Lance has, but every once in awhile, playing around with that kind of ability would be fun. And he would finally out bench Shiro.

The battle slowed as the ground forces began retreating, whatever was left of them at least. Lance didn't call out on the radio anymore, which was silent now as half of the fighters retreated while the other half was taken down by the Lions.

Lance began hollering into the comms, followed closely by Pidge and Hunk. _"Now that's what I'm talking about!"_

Keith heard Shiro sigh, the one usually specially reserved for Keith and his recklessness. He didn't know how to feel about no longer being the only one who drove Shiro crazy all the time. If only he could get Lance to drop the whole rivalry thing, the two of them could work in tandem. 

It's always fun making Shiro exasperated.

The worst reaction Keith had gotten out of Shiro was when he punched Iverson in the face and damaged his eye. Shiro had nearly blown a gasket when Keith told him about it shortly after they became the paladins of Voltron. 

His face had gone purple, his eyes had twitched and a nice, long vein popped out of Shiro's neck. Shiro didn't speak to him for an hour, and seeing as he's naturally kind of a pacifist, that's pretty intense. 

And yes, it is ironic, because Shiro was chosen to pilot Black.

So yeah, Keith, being an asshole little brother figure in Shiro’s life, was exited to see how far he and Lance could push Shiro's buttons.

 _"Alright everyone. Back to the ship and meet in the lounge for debriefing."_ Shiro said. _"And Lance, if you ever do something so stupid again, I will disown you."_

Keith snorted. He's made that same threat to Keith for years. His response was always something along the lines of-

 _"But we aren't even related."_ Lance said.

He could practically see Shiro's flared nostrils from all the way across the field. And Shiro would always respond to Keith-

_**"Disowned."** _

The similarities were hilarious, and he could hold back his laughter no longer. Shiro appeared on his dash in a private link, flipped Keith off with both hands- which was scandalous for Shiro- and then disappeared without a word.

Keith made sure his laughter was extra obnoxious just for Shiro. Then Keith made his way back to the lion hangars to regroup with the others.


	32. Wild Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in training.

It was a few days later when everyone noticed. 

A few days after saving Lance from that ship. A few days after he went into surgery. A few days after Lance decimated the enemy long enough for Pidge, Hunk and Coran to get a wormhole jump available. A few days after they decided to get some rest.

Hunk had been the first one to mention anything about Lance's odd behavior.

Lance had began pulling away from the team after the initial high of battle wore off. He smiled less, laughed less and hit on Allura less. Which for Lance, was very off putting to the rest of them. 

Hunk would sometimes just staring out the window in an alcove towards the back of the ship. The first time Hunk had found him, he had disrupted the quiet only a minor amount, and Lance had shot three feet in the air and his hands clenched where his pistols usually sat. 

Hunk would sometimes catch Lance just staring out the window in an alcove towards the back of the ship. The first time Hunk had found him, he had disrupted the quiet only a minor amount, and Lance had shot three feet in the air and his hands clenched where his pistols usually sat. 

After the second or third time, Hunk had just decided to watch. And watch. And watch. For hours on end Lance would stare aimlessly out of the window. Occasionally a hand would press against his Galra eye. Hunk could see in the reflection of the glass as Lance just switched from human to Galra eye every third blink.

Always with a harsh tilt of his mouth.

It was after Hunk had brought Lance up at mealtime- which Lance has yet to come to since the wormhole three or four days ago- that everyone began confessing their worry. 

It was Keith who made an offhand comment whispered under his breath about Hunk being odd too. It was quiet though, so he almost didn't hear it over the noise of the others talking.

He decided to pretend he didn't anyways.

And yeah, Hunk knows he's been weird too. Around Lance especially. Despite his worry for Lance he just couldn't look the man in the eye. Not after what happened on that ship.

However, it wasn't until their fifth day of just resting up that things came to a head.

Allura had called them to the training room to try and get some more practice in. She still felt like it was her fault the rest of them weren't able to handle the fleets the day the three of them were captured. The training is still just once a day for a few hours, but that doesn't mean she doesn't work them to the bone.

Day one was spent doing what humans on Earth call conditioning.

Mainly running, and strength and agility exercises for four hours at the end of the day. Allura decided each of them would take a day of training to lead. Condition day was Shiro. Always gotta start with the head right?

Day two was Keith's turn.

It was spent in pure hand to hand combat. Basic drills, advanced arts, different techniques for their differences in body build and mass. Keith gave him a new way for up close combat with his long range bayard. Called him a tank, and decided that was what Hunk needs to do. 

It was okay. Not too exhausting at least.

Day three was Pidge. And she was _merciless._

Basically she chose to put them through what she called _'trust exercises'_ and what everyone else- even goody-two-shoes Shiro- called _'torture exercises'._ Hunk wasn't even going to into detail of that horrible experience. 

Safe to say, Shiro banned her from leading training ever again.

Day four was all Hunk, and he decided to focus on the mind. He had redesigned, without the Alteans' permission of course, the headsets to do a series of mind exercises. His favorite was controlling a tiny robot designed like the gladiator bots to do a physical obstacle course.

It was on Lance's turn that things went south. 

First, he didn't show up to training until they were ten minutes in, making Allura yell and force them all to run three laps around the room as punishment. 

They were _not_ happy.

Then he had them practice using staffs, despite none of them knowing how to use them. Lance had said that staff fighting was the first form of training used in the Resistance. It helps with hand eye coordination, reflexes, and learning how to read an opponent.

It was actually pretty fun, and he had drafted Allura to balance them out. She was also well versed in the staff, so they gave a short demonstration. 

They had started in low ready stances, knees bent and back bowed, leaning on the back foot and taking weight off the front. Keith had commented that it was the opposite stance for sword fighting. 

Then when Shiro called out for them to begin they started meeting their staffs in strong clacks that resounded through the room. It was slow at first, to give the rest of them a feel for the movements. 

Then they sped up. And sped up. And sped up again. So much so it was hard to keep up with them. They used the entire training room as their battle arena. Left over obstacles from Pidge’s torture session were scattered around the edges of the room.

All while instructing the rest of them, Lance backed onto the obstacles and used them as if he were on rocky terrain. After giving Allura enough head way, Lance called out for Allura to switch to defense and then Lance was pressing steadily forward. 

And this was where the disaster hit. 

It was a wild swing of Allura’s, born from imbalance, that made Lance lash out like a wild animal. His human looking eye clicks over to the Galra version and Lance is rabid.

They all surge forward to help Allura, but she's using her Altean strength, and Lance is using his strength. They are almost evenly matched at that moment, as Allura keeps Lance away with her staff. Lance had long dropped his own, taking to attacking unarmed like an animal.

Suddenly the fight isn't so awe inspiring and wondrous. It's murderous and filled with malice completely on Lance's end. And then the power balance surges in Allura’s favor, and she's pinning Lance down on the ground. Lance is face to floor, with both arms behind his back and held in a death grip.

But he thrashes anyways.

It's like Allura was riding a bucking horse. Hunk moved slightly to the right, and when he caught sight of Lance's eyes he understood. 

Lance was caught in a flashback. 

Hunk’s grandfather was in one of the few actual wars that has happened in recent decades on Earth, and sometimes there would just be a moment where everything just rewinds him back to his war days as a soldier.

Pops, as Hunk calls him, says it's like blackouts born out of PTSD. Episodes where a person can kill their first born child and not remember it afterwards. It was different for everyone, and everyone had different triggers. 

So Hunk knew what Lance was going through at that moment as he thrashed in Allura’s grip.

Hunk leaned down to Lance's eye level, chest to floor with his arms underneath him. Shiro tried to pull him back, but Hunk just shook Shiro off. Lance was no longer thrashing but he was hyperventilating.

"Allura," Hunk said. "Get off him, stop touching him." Allura looked ready to protest, but she listened to Hunk and slowly eased off of him. Lance just curled in on himself, legs underneath him, and head grasped in his hands. His fingers were white with how hard he was holding his head.

"Lance, look at me." He said, moving slowly into a similar position to Lance. It took a moment but he listened, and Hunk almost flinched when they locked eyes. But he pushed past the shameful feelings swirling in his chest so he could help his friend.

"Breath with me." Hunk said, rising as Lance did, so they were both sitting on their knees. "In, and out. In, and out." Lance followed Hunk’s instructions shakily, breathing in sharply and breathing out slowly.

"Don't stop, come on breath with me." Hunk said. This time he didn't stop his breathing exercises with Lance, and after a few minutes, his breathing had returned to normal. 

Hunk stood up and helped Lance to his feet.

"Guys." Hunk said, looking at the rest of the team who was watching nervously. "Let me talk to Lance for a minute? Alone please?"

Shiro reluctantly nodded and Hunk guided Lance to the far end of the room while the rest of them left. 

"Let's talk." Hunk said. Lance only sighed to the sound of the training room door closing behind their friends.


	33. Gossip and Spying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge spies on Hunk and Lance.

It wasn’t five minutes later when Pidge finally broke.

They had all gone to the lounge to wait for Lance and Hunk to finish talking. It was clear everyone was a bit shook up. Shiro was comforting Allura, his human hand on her shoulder. Her lips pulled down in a frown and her eyebrows creased, her eyes locked on the floor by her feet. 

Pidge had taken all of five minutes before she decided to adhere to her own curiosity. Taking out her laptop, she was already typing and pulling up the training room video feed. She had almost gotten her headphones on when Shiro interrupted her. She froze, her hands holding her headphones just above her head.

“What are you doing?” Shiro said. His eyebrows were pulled in a cross between pulled together and one eyebrow raised, like his face couldn’t choose whether to look confused or knowing. It was vaguely amusing.

“Uh,” Pidge responded brilliantly. Her eyes darted to her screen which was just visual at the moment. “Research?” Sometimes Pidge really despised how her voice cracked and raised at the end. Honestly. She can lie her way out of situations with anyone across the universe, starting with Iverson disrespectfully, but Shiro just made her hopeless.

Shiro only clucked his tongue at her and gestured for her to hand over her computer. Pidge handed it over dutifully, a sulky feeling spreading through her body. He was such a _dad._ Allura peeked over Shiro’s shoulder curiously before sitting back into her own space with a snort.

“Pidge, you are not going to spy on our friends during a private conversation.” Shiro admonished her, sounding every bit the tired guardian he acted like. She wanted to respond with something along the lines of _‘But I do it all the time’._ However she didn’t think he would take that very well. 

Pidge just pouted with her biggest puppy dog expression on full blast.

After Shiro didn’t even look up at her, turning her laptop this way and that try and get it to shut off, she turned her attention to Allura. They locked eyes, and Pidge hit the jackpot. Allura was so obviously _aching_ for the gossip spying on her friends would provide. 

It was why they liked each other so much.

Allura always knew that when she wanted to fulfill her gossipy needs, Pidge was the person to go to. Or Coran, but as much as that man bottles up his gossip, anyone would be hard pressed to get anything out of him. Lance probably could. It wasn’t exactly a well kept secret that Coran favored a certain Blue Paladin above everyone else. 

And as for Pidge, being able to share gossip again was like drinking fresh cold water after weeks of wandering the desert. She and Matty used to gossip so much, their parents always refrained from taking them to their workplaces. Of course, Dad had no choice when Matty joined the Garrison.

So Pidge turned her attempts of convincing towards Allura.

“Allura, I was just worried about my friends. Shouldn’t we check up on them? Just to be sure?” Pidge said sweetly. Allura bit her lip, half of her wanting to respect their friends’ privacy and the other too curious to disregard.

“All it would take is a push of a button.” PIdge continued. “Don’t you want to look after our friends?” Definitely a low blow for someone like Shiro, but Allura just sharpened her gaze at Pidge. It was the moment Allura looked at Shiro, who was looking between the two of them suspiciously. Pidge glanced at Keith, eyeing how he was leant forward to rest an elbow on his knees, his chin resting on his fist. 

“Just a minute wouldn’t hurt Shiro, give her the laptop.” Allura said, all but commanding him. Shiro spluttered and tried to protest but Allura simply raised an eyebrow. 

“I can’t believe you two.” Shiro muttered. Pidge unplugged her headphones to allow the rest of them to hear and scooted over as Allura and Keith crowded beside her.

“Keith! You too?” Shiro said, horror coating his words. _Goody two shoes._

Keith shrugged and Pidge smirked at Shiro as she pressed for the audio to turn on. They caught the boys in a moment of silence, and in that moment of silence Shiro caved. He walked around the back of the couch to look over Pidge’s head.


	34. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Lance talk.

It was a long few minutes after the doors shut behind their friends before either of them spoke. Lance spent the time staring at his hands, trying to swallow the fact that he had attacked Allura. 

He didn't actually remember doing it. But the first thing Hunk told him was that he had attacked her mid- demonstration. To Lance, it was all just a black, empty space in his memory. Last thing he remembered was the flash of light against Allura’s nails when she stumbled, and then all of a sudden he was staring into Hunk’s eyes as they crouched on the floor.

He _attacked_ Allura.

"We can all tell that things have been hard on you since your return." Hunk started. Lance shifted his eyes to look at Hunk, but the man wouldn't look him in the eye. Hunk opted to stare at the far wall instead. 

"You need to talk to someone Lance. About what's happened. Otherwise it'll keep eating you up from the inside out, and days like today will only get worse." Hunk said, his voice filled with a sorrow so deeply set, one would think he was talking about himself. 

It's not like Lance was blind. He knew that something happened on the ship to change him, to make Hunk act different. It was subtle of course, little things that changed. However, when the only people you really are around only take up seven fingers on the daily, you're bound to learn things about one another. 

Like Pidge. Believe it or not, but she sings to herself when others aren't around. And her voice goes from that sort of boyish deepness she talks in, into a sweet, lilting, high pitched voice. 

Very beautiful.

Allura, she likes to tuck herself away in a small space, tight and seemingly uncomfortable, just to take naps. Lance suspects she likes the small places, and sometimes she'll use her shifting ability to become about the size of the mice.

Keith is artistic. Lance once found one of his little sketches of a planet they saved, and had hunted down the artist in question. Keith had clammed up when confronted, so Lance just made him promise to leave some more pieces out on accident so Lance could see. 

Now, every once in a while, Lance wakes up to find a new sketch slipped onto his nightstand. How Keith gets in and out without Lance hearing is still an unsolved mystery.

Neither of them speak of the drawings though.

And Shiro, he loves to talk to himself in the mirror. Lance once caught him in the shower room, which was communal and seperated only by curtains. Shiro tackled him when Lance tried to run and tell Pidge. 

So yeah, they all know things about each other like a real family does. They threaten each other not to tell the rest of the castle, they barter and negotiate as well. A real familiar type of interaction.

Which means, Lance noticed when Hunk leaves the room when he enters. And when Hunk refuses to make eye contact. And when Hunk borderline flinches when Lance tries to talk to him.

"You should take your own advice." Lance said after a moment of thinking. Hunk jumped again, which was his version of flinching. Lance cut him off when Hunk opened his mouth, his face creased in protestation. 

"We've noticed how off you've been acting too you know." Lance started. He was unable to drain the hurt from his voice. "You can't look me in the eye, run out of the room when I enter, you flinch at me." Each action was punctuated by Lance's counting fingers, each making Hunk shy away a little more.

That hurt a lot.

"What happened on that ship?" Lance whispered loudly. Unbidden, a slew of horrific images began filtering through his mind. Memories, except instead of Lance, it was Hunk. Chains, pain, the glint of blue liquid spreading and spreading. Hunk’s headband bloody, his eyes crying. 

Fear and anger began rising up into his chest and throat, and probably his voice too. "What did they do to you?" He said. Something must have leaked into his voice enough, because the two of them finally locked eyes, dark blue against dark brown. 

"Did he hurt you? Did they touch you?" Lance's voice slowly raised in pitch in volume, a slight growl rumbling in his throat behind his words. 

Hunk shook his head quickly. "No, they didn't lay a finger on me. They did nothing to me, I swear Lance." Pure honesty was in Hunk’s expression. And pain filled the void the retreating anger left behind. 

"Then why are you acting like this towards me?" Lance said. Hunk looked away, and a terrible thought came to mind. "Are you _ashamed_ of me?"

Lance had tried to sound accusing and angry, but all that came out was broken and meek.

Hunk shook his head no again, harsh and sharp. 

"I'm ashamed of myself Lance." Hunk said, moments before Lance could speak again. He didn't answer, just letting Hunk get what he needs to say off his chest.

Hunk took a moment to steady himself, a deep breath shaky even to Lance's ears. "I heard," was all he said. It took a minute or two for Lance to get the hint that he was supposed to know what that meant. Problem was, he had no clue what that meant. 

"Heard what?" Lance said. He desperately wanted to reach out and touch Hunk, just a hand on the shoulder would be fine. He's been so starved of touch before he met Voltron, not trusting those he shared a ship with enough to allow it. Hunk was always hugging Lance though, so he became dependent. 

He needed a gentle touch every now and then. 

"Heard what?" Lance asked again instead, his fingers twitching in his lap. Hunk took another shuddering breath.

"I heard everything Lance." Hunk said, turning to look Lance in the eyes again. Pain and anger in his eyes, as well as unshed tears. "Everything they did to you, I heard it." Lance let that sink in, wondering why it would cause such problems with Hunk. 

Yeah, Lance was tortured. Yeah, he was vocal at points. But why would that cause such reactions in Hunk? 

_Unless-_

"How much did you hear?" Lance asked slowly.

Hunk shook his head again, curling himself to make a giant Hunk ball. Despite the guy's size, he seemed pretty small in that moment. When he spoke again, it wasn't to answer the question.

"The others, Pidge and Keith and the rest of them. They only heard Keith's side of the story. Not mine. Not yours." Hunk said. Lance hesitated, but slowly lifted a hand to Hunk’s shoulder. The contact practically made Hunk melt out of the ball he had formed himself into. 

They scooted closer, only an inch, but enough to allow their legs to touch. And Lance waited. Eventually Hunk got the hint and kept talking.

"My cell was right down the hall from where they kept you. I heard everything they did to you. I heard your screams, and taunts and sobs. I heard the men and the whip and the laughter." Hunk gasped in a breath. "And I heard when they changed tactics against you. It was when whatever they drugged you with broke you. Because I know you were drugged, or you wouldn't have said the things you did." 

"Hunk-" Lance said, a small swell of panic rising. He didn't want to talk any more, but Hunk wasn't listening. 

"I sort of blacked out. Went on a rampage, but watched myself do it all. Ripping my cuffs to shreds. Taking down the guards when they investigated all the noise. Stealing a large set of armor to fit over my own. Finding Keith's cell and body slamming his guard. Breaking him free." Hunk said in a rush. His words were getting faster and more blurred together. So much so that Lance had make that click to change to enhanced vision and hearing.

"It's like watching a screen engulfed in water. Blurred, and wobbly. Hard to understand. And my chest- Oh my god- my _chest._ It was burning, like I was melting inside out." Hunk pressed a hand to his chest and Lance knew what he meant. Almost instinctively.

"I couldn't breath, and I couldn't think. I had never felt such things in my life. And it didn't leave until we had you in the pod. It was awful." Hunk finished, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

Lance took pity on both of them and leaned into Hunk’s side. "It's called anger. That's what pure anger feels like. When it's so bad that your chest burns and it's like someone is yanking the air out of your chest." Hunk shuddered. 

"I never want to feel like that again." Hunk said. Lance hummed his reply, and they sat in quiet some more. As if breaking the silence was forbidden.

Hunk broke it anyways. "I'm ashamed of myself for not getting you back sooner, for just abandoning you to fend for yourself against Shemale." 

Lance stopped short. _Shemale?_ "Who the hell is Shemale?" Lance asked, shocked at the name. He knows no one on that awful ship who called themselves _Shemale._ Hunk barked out a short, hoarse laugh. 

"That's what Keith and I called the Commander. We couldn't decide if they were male or female. Keith is adamant they were female, but I'm partial to male. We've been meaning to ask you, even have a bet on it."

Lance snorted as he shook his head slowly. He could see it, honestly. Pagg was not the handsomest of aliens. 

"Male." Lance said. "Definitely male." He heard Hunk mutter under his breath that Keith owed him a thousand Gak. Which was funny, since literally no one but Coran and Allura actually have any Gak. Lance had some, but he hasn't needed to use his stash yet. 

Of course when Pidge and him went Gak fishing in the fountain at the mall, that was just for fun. And Pidge wouldn't take his money anyways. They let the mood sink back into a serious air. 

"You don't have to talk to me about it. There are plenty of people on this ship if I'm not the one you want to talk to." Hunk said, his voice soft. Lance went to interrupt but Hunk just kept talking.

"Talk to Shiro, he's been in similar situations. Or Pidge, she'll throw logic at you until you understand that whatever is bothering you is not true or your fault or whatever it is." Hunk said, a small smile curling on his lips. Lance snorted in response.

"She would wouldn't she?" Lance said fondly.

"Or Allura. Despite being," Hunk paused to find the right words, before saying slowly. "Rough around the edges, she's really kind and empathetic. It's how she saved the Balmera." 

Lance pouted. "You guys still haven't told me what you did. I mean come on. I've seen the details of it's condition, saving it should have been impossible with a thousand years to do it let alone one day." Hunk only laughed, his large body trembling under the force, shaking Lance a little where he leaned. 

"Maybe later." Hunk said. Like he always did. They all found it funny how pretty much all of the Galra believe it was Lance to save a Balmera. Given Lance still had a price on his head for it, he didn't find it funny. To be fair, without the tracker in his eye, they have been able to lay low and try to fix the ship.

"You could talk to Keith. Believe it or not, he understands emotions quite well." Hunk said. Lance scoffed and sat up to look at Hunk with a deadpan expression. 

"Keith." Lance said, obviously disbelieving.

Hunk only smirked, seeming much more like himself, even if he still wouldn't look him in the eyes. "Think about it." That was all Hunk said. And Lance _did_ think about it.

It made sense. Keith was always putting himself as a punching bag for Lance's frustration, and keeping Pidge company at night sometimes. When Lance didn't get her in bed at least. Which wasn't often but still.

Ever since Lance found out about her insomniac ways, he's gotten pretty good at convincing her to go to sleep. Usually she only went when Lance sung to her. It was their little thing, the singing. It was the only way her thoughts could quiet enough to sleep. 

The first time Shiro saw him carrying her to bed, he had called Lance a witch. That was an entertaining night. Usually she'll go happily to bed when Lance offered to sing, but when she didn't, he sung to her anyways. Bit by bit she would fall slowly to sleep. It was only after the third time when Lance learned the moment she would drop her head on her keyboard, so that he could move it out of the way. 

But Keith was always there when he or Hunk weren't. Shiro's pacing the halls, countered with Keith's offer to spar. Allura’s snapping, countered with Keith's steady voice when they were in tense situations. 

"Oh my god." Lance breathed. Hunk nodded in smugness. "You're absolutely right." The thought blew his mind. Hot head Keith was actually good with emotions, or other people's anyways. He wasn't good with human interaction and his own emotions, but other people's he was great. 

"And if not Keith, go to Coran. He's older and wiser, and will probably be a great listener for you." Hunk paused and scoffed. "Besides, we all know he has the hugest soft spot for you."

Lance chuckled, not denying it. They were pretty close for knowing each other only a short time. But still, Lance couldn't talk about it, it hurt too much. He told Hunk as much.

"I can't relive the memory Hunk. It's too painful." Then Lance said something that was bothering him quite a bit. "Shiro's lucky not to remember what the Galra put him through. He has time to accept it before he knows, I see it all in my dreams. Every time I close my eyes, or see my own body, or even breath. It haunts me." He felt guilty saying Shiro was lucky, because he really wasn't, but that didn't mean Lance felt any different. 

"I think that's something you should talk to him about, but if you don't talk to anyone it will kill you slowly." Hunk said, deadly serious. 

He wanted to say something awful, like _Good riddance,_ but that was just his trauma talking. He shook his head, leaning against Hunk again. He felt so tired, felt like he was sinking to the bottom of Earth's oceans and unable to swim to freedom. 

"I can't." He said again. Hunk sort of blew up at him after that, raising his voice into a yell. 

"You have to talk to someone! The team, a recorder, Blue. Hell just talk to a wall if you must! You can't keep bottling things up in your chest. Because they will explode when packed too tightly." Hunk finished, standing up and pacing away from Lance. He turned back to Lance before he stormed out of the room. 

"And when it happens, the ones affected will be your friends. I can't promise the damage to he repairable either." Hunk locked eyes with Lance. They stared at each other a moment before Hunk sighed and went to open the door. 

He didn't look back when he spoke next, his voice nearly a whisper. "I'm going to get changed. Meet you at dinner. If you decide to show up at least." Lance watched how his shoulders hunched inwards, his view cut off by the closing of the training room door. When the silence settled over him, he just curled into himself and closed his eyes. 

He couldn't talk about it. Not yet.


	35. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wakes from a nightmare.

_Lance’s dream started in darkness._

_Just a black hole swallowing him up as he floated aimlessly. It was so dark, he couldn’t even see his own body. He could feel himself move as he shifted. Felt his arm lift to brush against his face. Felt tears against the fingertips of his hand, and something dripping from his other hand. Lance felt when he blinked, as if in slow motion, but there was no change in vision. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing, and ignoring the feeling of the same almost sludge like liquid smearing all over his face._

_When he opened his eyes again he could see his hands._

_Horror rose in his chest as he recognized the blue liquid falling slowly from his hands. His wrists had a pair of chains that looked suspiciously Galran in nature. Lance looked up at the sound of a broken whimper and his vision blacked out again. The only thing he could see was a pair of teary eyes. They held no whites, no pupil, just a pure blue color._

_The color of his lion, of his very own eyes, the color of the sludge dripping from his fingers._

_They grew from tiny little eyes, and grew and grew until Lance was nothing but an ant beneath their glare. A voice echoed in his ears, low and haunting and achingly familiar. A voice that haunted his nightmares, a voice he’s run away from ever since he escaped the arena._

Your fault, _it says._ If you had only done as I demanded, then this wouldn’t have happened. _It repeats what is says in varying tones. Some echo, as if Lance was underneath the waves on Varadero beach. Blurred and distorted. Others are mocking, like it was laughing at Lance’s pain._

_He wanted to get free. He needed to wake up._

Wake up _, Lance yells at himself._ Wake up you idiot!

_Lance looks down, looking at his chains again to not have to look into those horrible eyes. Horrible, sorrowful eyes. The chain, actual physical chains, is long and loose. The slack pools into two stacks of chain, his right one bigger as both chains trail to the right of Lance and behind him. They were unraveling, pulling behind him. It took him a second too late to realize that they were about to yank him off his feet._

_They only took him through the air for a millisecond, before he crashed into the wall, back first. It knocked the breath out of him, and he jerked forward in wheeze. His hands, chained above him, refused to allow him proper room to curl in on himself like his natural instincts demanded._

_A clawed purple hand- slim, strong, and in a crooked sense, feminine- gripped his cheeks hard, digging into his skin and yanking his head up. He met glowing yellow eyes, and a pointed purple face shrouded beneath a hood._

You **will** obey, _the witch said._ Obey me paladin.

No! _Lance yells to himself and forces himself to wake up with a gasp._

~~~

Lance launches upright with a desperate gasp. 

He’s in bed, tangled among his sheets and sweaty. He pushes his hand through his hair, pushing the short strands out of his face. They were starting to get a little long again. He sucked in a breath, trying to slow his rapid breathing before he starts hyperventilating.

He’s successful, and he calms down enough to stumble out of bed and to the bathroom. The first thing he does is empty his stomach, which wasn’t all that full in the first place. Last night he got a taste of his own medicine at dinner. He had shown up for dinner, hoping to talk to Hunk, but he had never shown. 

The others did, and thankfully they didn’t ice him out. But Lance knew they knew a little something about the conversation he had with Hunk. If he knew his friends as well as he thought he did, it was probably Pidge who convinced the others to spy on them. 

Wouldn’t surprise him.

Lance washed his mouth out before stumbling back into his room, legs shaky and unstable. One hand, his right one, was pressed into the door frame to hold him upright. He curled in on himself again, bending almost in half as he struggled to get himself together. 

Maybe Hunk was right.

The dreams have been so bad lately, keeping him up at all hours of the night. He tries to stare at the stars and planets in the distance to calm down, like when he was a kid, but it doesn't work. Never works. Lance just associates the stars with suffering now.

And that killed him, alright? It killed him to know that one of the few things he would always have as a constant in his life is now blackened with pain. Once upon a time, when he looked at the stars and planets, all he saw was new possibilities. 

Girl or guy reject or dump him particularly harsh? The stars gave him faith he would find someone to love. A person drags him through the mud for his sexuality? Hope that times will change. The day his abuelito passed away? The knowledge that he was in a better place among the stars. 

They've always comforted him, until they only spelled out misery and pain. 

And his eye doesn't help. The Galra eye that is. It's like Lance lost all control over that mental _click_ that switches from Galra to human mode. Not often does it happen, but when he's stressed out, it's like an involuntary spasm. 

On, off. Human, Galra. Back and forth. 

And _Hunk._ Can't forget about the giant hunky Hunk.

Lance prides himself in being able to read people. Aliens, humans, machines, beasts, half beast robots of Galra creation. It's just an intuitive thing. Something he's positive he inherited from his mother. 

So the stressed out tone when Hunk said he knew, and he heard? Well it doesn't take a genius to guess exactly how much. And the way Hunk talked about it. As if he _knew_ they were being spied on, and tried to give Lance as much privacy as possible. 

Hunk was good at reading people too. 

So he probably understood why Lance couldn't say the goddamned words out loud. The trauma, the memories. It's all still too fresh in his mind. Present. Past. Lance can't distinguish them anymore. He can't pick apart the knot of thread to tell which was this recent encounter, and which one was a year or so ago. 

Especially after Hunk and Keith got free. 

Then things really got bad, and Lance was lost. He had to push his mind into a cage and wait out the hurricane. He's still feeling the aftereffects of the storm, pressing deeply on his mind. The high winds of what if. The down pouring rain of locked away memories breaking free. The torrent waves of the new experiences rocking his boat to make him drown. 

Lance was no stranger to suffering. 

When he was maybe ten years old, his best friend died in the ocean they so loved. An underwater current wrenched him away in a second, and his tiny body was found three miles downstream. 

When he was fourteen, his older sister tried to commit suicide, all because someone at school started a rumor that labeled her as a whore. She's still recovering in rehab, in and out over the past couple of years. 

When Lance was seventeen he followed in her footsteps. It was thankfully unsuccessful, and he didn't need a hospital. In fact most of his family don't even know, only his mom and eldest brother. Lance made them promise not to send him away, and their family friend, a doctor, diagnosed Lance with depression. 

It wasn't too bad, definitely livable, and it only flared up every now and again. Never enough to warrant even a thought of suicide again, but enough to make him hollow inside. He was lucky, most didn't get the kind of second chances Lance did. 

So yeah. He knew suffering. Knew it like an old friend. He was no stranger to pain and heartache. But Hunk? That was a different story. Of course, Lance was positive Hunk had his own problems, his own tragedies. Everyone does. But you wouldn't tell with Hunk.

He radiated warmth like the sun, kind and protective and life giving. The kind of suffering Hunk was exposed to, even if not his own, would be a game changer for anyone. Hunk was just in pain right now, Lance knew. He was hurting because Lance was, and it warmed him. 

Made the hurt fade a little in his chest, knowing Hunk was so fond of him that he was in this pain while Lance worked through his suffering alone. Lance was never positive where he stood with the team. Yeah, they've all bonded a lot ever since they met. But he wasn't positive he was really apart of the Voltron family until now. Until Hunk showed how much he cared for Lance. 

So maybe Hunk was right.

Maybe he should talk to someone. Maybe Lance should march his happy ass down to the bridge, call them to join him in the lounge and just spill his guts like he was dying. Maybe he should tell them, at least to get it off his chest. Out of his head. 

The things he went through were of the worst kind of suffering. The kind that rips someone apart from the inside out. The kind that makes the skin a person wears feel foreign or tainted. The kind that brought thought of the pills Lance once took a little too much of. And the kind that put a blade to his sister's wrist, to create red flowers in the bathtub.

He shouldn't have to suffer alone. He _doesn't_ have to suffer alone. These people, these amazing, talented people. They could help Lance get through this. It isn't like when he escaped the arena. 

It isn't him locking himself in the room with his head in his hands and tears on his face and a scream dying on his lips. It isn't those cells he called home for months. It isn't prison. 

This was his friends, his Found Family. 

Mama once told him something that seemed so insignificant at the time. Said off handedly, like a passing thought, with no rhyme or reason. 

She told him, there are three types of family every person has. No two types are the same for any person, and no two people's are alike. She said, the first family is the family you are born into. The people you call blood, who share your DNA in some way or another.

Not every Born Family are good families. Some are cruel, and some are absent. Some abandon, and some are killed. But no matter what, they are still your first family. You don't have to love them, you don't even have to _like_ them. But facts are facts honey.

She said, then there are your Found Family. Some are small, and some are big, and some may never be found. But they are still there. These are the people you love, the ones that aren't related by blood or marriage. 

They are friends, neighbors, teachers and even animals. These are the people you choose to have around you, that you would ride and die and kill for. 

And she said, usually with a wave of a hand vaguely, then there are the Made Family. This one is simple honey. They are the family you create. Your loving spouse, your children and your grandchildren. Nieces, nephews, sons, daughters. More often than not they are blood, and you become their Born Family. But some aren't related in the slightest. 

Mama meant adopted children and the like, though she never elaborated. Lance never asked. 

So these people, these amazing people he surrounded himself with daily, were Lance's Found Family. They don't know it, or he doesn't think they do. And they might not reciprocate, but like Mama said, facts are facts. 

It was wrong of Lance to push his Found Family away. 

So when the time was right, and things slow down, and maybe after Lance gets some well deserved rest, he'll talk. He'll sit them all down at the table. They'll listen, ask questions, and accept if Lance can't answer. He'll throw some lame pick up lines at Allura, Shiro, Hunk, Keith, Pidge or Coran. They'll change the subject when it gets too much and set it aside for later. 

So yeah, maybe Hunk was right. 

But Lance wanted to wait until he was ready before he tried to talk to them about what happened. He didn't want to subside into a panic attack mid talk, that's for sure. 

For now though, he had some training to catch up on.


	36. Crystal People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team saves a planet and Lance gets recognized.

Their little vacation was cut short when the castle received a distress signal.

There was no big discussion about answering the call or not. They had been led into a trap once or twice, but they just had to go into the situation expecting betrayal. Lance didn’t like that mindset, he’s said it before and he’ll say it again. He was openly trustful at first, so going into a situation expecting everyone to be an enemy was not making him feel good.

It made his chest hurt.

But he understood why. It put them all in even greater danger than they are every other moment of the day if they didn’t expect the worst. Once upon a time, Lance wouldn’t care about danger. He may have been actively seeking out a way to get home without the tracker in his eye, but that didn’t mean he had _real_ hope. For going on three years, give or take, Lance has been hopeless. It was what made him jump the ranks so quickly in the Resistance.

Because of his lack of caution, he was known for his more tricky victories. The ones where a sane person, one with something to look forward to and family to see again, always calculated the risks and judged based on that. Not Lance though. Lance had no safety alarm in his head that warned him against potentially deadly situations.

Until Voltron that is.

His friends had restored his hope, if only the little bit it is, and he saw color in what was once a grey life. Cliche? Probably. The truth? Definitely.

The distress signal, thank the heavens, turned out to be a true call of distress. It was a small planet, one that looked completely crystalline. They were being invaded by a Galra commander Lance didn’t recognize. And although the Galra were pushing forward steadily, he could still see hundreds of little flying crystals zooming through space and the atmosphere. Upon closer look they were ships.

Crystal ships.

_Awesome._

Lance made a mental note to sneak off and buy a ship for himself when he got the chance. The battle was brutal, as all battles were with the Galra. Then again, it was also easier, because now the team acted as a unit, as Team Voltron. Not Team Voltron and Lance. He finally learned how to fight like a Paladin at least. It was a steep learning curve, changing from the almost strictness of Resistance fighting compared to the wildness of Voltron.

Sure neither of the groups made full on battle tactics to be followed by the book, but in the Resistance everyone followed the commands of the highest rank present or the person who has the command. Said commands are vague, such as ‘team six strike to the left’, and not dictating how exactly it is supposed to get done.

Voltron was, well, weirder. It was a strange mix of all over the place and thought out beforehand. Most of the time in battle the team is left to do as they please, while adhering to requests for backup or orders for a specific attack from Shiro or Allura. While connected in Voltron, they were completely cohesive with each other’s movements. Except they’re still cohesive when not forming Voltron? Right, again, it’s just weird.

Non- category- able- ish.

_Yeah, because **that’s** a word._

The end of the battle came through smoothly. Coordinating with the Crystal Fighters, as Lance has dubbed them, made it easier for Voltron to take down the command ship while not causing any more casualties on the Crystal side. They weren’t called crystals apparently, but Lance wasn’t listening when Allura calmed down from the high of battle afterwards to explain the names of the race that inhabits this planet.

And, hoo- boy, they are something.

Landing on the planet was surreal, meeting the people was surreal, even eating the food was surreal. Why, one might ask? Everything, literally everything, was crystallized.

The inhabitants of this planet were literally crystal humans. Bipedal beings, with two eyes, a nose, and ears like humans. Two arms and legs like humans. They speak like humans. Everything about them was just humans, but crystallized. The crystal of their bodies was so dense you couldn’t see through, and were colored differently per person. Their eyes moved like human eyes, and had black crystal for the pupils, but no irises. They opened their mouths and moved and acted like human beings.

Scratch that, they acted like the mythical version of elves. Not the space elves Allura and Coran are, but Earth elf lore. They were kind of full of themselves, they moved with grace that should be impossible for their body types, and spoke with a lilt actors playing elvish characters take on. The not-quite-but-most-like the British accent.

The buildings were carved into the crystal surface, and the food was crystal too. Choose a certain color for a certain taste. Lance was dubbed the taste tester for the team. He learned that any color crystal that was soft and bright tasted horrible, choose the darker colored crystals. At least they tasted better than food goo.

Even just shifting in place threw three hundred colors or more across their vision, dulled due to being a reflection of the sun which was merely a speck in the sky. You know how when a photo is taken on an old timey camera, and certain lighting affects the color of the outcome? Yeah, it’s like a rainbow was being distorted and thrown everywhere at once.

Beautiful, but eye achingly so.

A celebration was thrown, one that screamed elegance. The people wore actual clothes, although it wasn’t made from fabric but thin sheets of crystals that acted like fabric. The walls were decorated with drapes and curtains of the stuff, and the tables covered with it. The entire event was fantastic to say the least.

Then things took a left turn.

The chief of the Crystal people, in a sort of Viking-esque fashion, began celebrating the lives of the fallen warriors with a great feast, and simultaneously praising Voltron. Usually by saying, ‘To Voltron and the Fallen!’ every few minutes in a progressing state of slurred speech and possibly a mix of languages too. The crowd would respond in kind by cheering loudly and lifting every single one of the team, even Allura and Coran, and making them crowd surf for a few minutes. Of course that was stopped when Keith, and his sword fighting version of a trigger finger, got a little too close to the crystal space rock people for comfort. 

This wasn’t the left turn.

The left turn came around in the form a small crystal child who latched onto Lance’s arm mid-conversation with some giggly crystal ladies and dragged him away. He was yanked so hard his cup of untouched nunville went flying through the air in a liquidy arc over the crowd. Lance cringed and went away willingly when a very familiar shriek of Red Paladin Rage sounded out over the crowd. He only got the smallest of glimpses of Keith doused in nunville, staining his gaudy red cape at the shoulders and making his mullet a mop. 

The red rage flush across Keith’s cheeks were priceless.

The child, dressed simply in a sort of sundress type outfit, but more squared at the shoulders, dragged him for a good few minutes through crystalline halls that sent rainbows of color dancing in Lance’s eyes. He made the mistake only once of putting his eyes in Galra mode. In return he was left immobile for a good few minutes. 

They veered out of the dizzying halls and into a darker, but still dizzying room. it was bare, and the walls were clear like it was a sunroom. _Does this mean the crystal people can tan?_ Once the girl decided that the room was clear of eavesdroppers she rounded on him and he almost stumbled backwards at the intensity in her eyes.

He didn’t of course. 

Intimidated by a child no more than half your height? Not Lance, nope. Not at all. He pursed his lips as the child just stared at him, her pink crystalline body glinting in the rainbows thrown across the room. Lance was just about prepared to smile at her as if she were an adoring fan of a rockstar or something when she spoke. Her voice was almost _too_ innocent.

“Are you the man they said was going to be Zarkon’s biggest enemy one day?” She said, and when Lance slowly asked who ‘they’ were, all she said was someone on the Mermaid, before running away at the sound of bells.


	37. Lost But Not Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is lost in the Crystal halls.

Lance was lost.

In the chase after the kid, he had lost visual for two milliseconds and all of a sudden he was lost. Everything was looking the same, as if he was walking for days and not moving a step. Plus he had a headache the size of a Galran battle cruiser. All of these lights and reflected colors were starting to become blurred. Sometimes his headache would cause his mechanical eye to fritz and turn to Galra mode, which left him immobile from the shock of color assaulting him for just a minute or two. 

And those _goddamn_ bells won’t shut up.

They’ve been chiming since that little child took off, the bells practically causing her to jump out of her crystals. Every five minutes was another five chimes, which would ring through the crystalline walls for a good minute or two. It was a miracle he hasn’t gone insane yet. 

Lance takes a moment to collapse against a crystal wall of the hallway he’s been walking down for a good minute. The wall is cold against his back, and he presses his fingers harshly into his eyes, especially on his galra eye. It’s like a vague sensation of pressure in the fake eye, like a phantom touch he is positive is actually there. The headache recedes just a little bit but comes back as soon as he opens his eyes again.

He checks his armor database again.

Allura had forced them to wear their combat suits, but made the outfit more formal for political events as well with a long cape that clipped at the right shoulder, and at the left for Shiro, because he felt it better not to show off his arm. A useless endeavor seeing as soon as someone spotted the Galra tech that made his arm, he became the main attraction of the party. 

The Galra was a horrible race, excusing the few in the Blades, but their tech was still eons ahead of most of the rest of the universe. The only technology Lance has witnessed to stand up to Galra tech was Altean and Olkari technology. Lance had long since removed the cape and tied it around his waist, sick of almost tripping over the damn thing every time he moved. 

He zones back into the present when his gauntlet just blinks at him and glitches like ancient t.v. static. His grandmother still uses a television like that; small, compact, with a static screen that happens if the antenna isn’t right. The thing is probably three hundred years old by now, but it’s as if Grandma had super powers just for keeping the thing alive.

Lance groans to himself.

If he could just get the damn communicator working, he could call out to the team. But _noooo,_ his suit just decides to commit suicide when he needs it most. This was why he preferred his personal armor. Much more reliable, or at least Lance knew how jury-rig the thing to work if it doesn’t want to. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran were probably the only people who could understand what to do with this. And Allura. Maybe.

Lance slams his arm hard against the wall, but all it does is make the glitching worse. He shuts down the screen with a scowl before closing his eyes and just opting to breath for a bit. The words of the crystal girl replayed over and over in his head.

_Are you the man they said was going to be Zarkon’s biggest enemy one day?_

How did she even know he was the most hunted guy in the universe? And who were _they?_ Also, why run away when bells chimed? Were they under attack? He really hoped not. Maybe Allura was right, and these people set them up? But the Galra were attacking? None of this made sense.

And the way she said it too.

_Zarkon’s biggest enemy one day?_

One day, as in she knew beforehand. As in whoever set him up knew the little girl? God his head hurt. Lance knew for sure whoever set him up had to have close relations with him, maybe even a crew member? But Lance was the only one who ever left the ship without telling people. Perhaps Lance had memory loss and set himself up for this the entire time. Yeah, try explaining that to the bounty hunters after his head. They’ve already encountered a few bounty hunters as it was. 

Lance had flirted with one of them.

Nyma and Rolo, or whatever their names were. They had been on a moon close to the Balmera when they visited, and when Hunk introduced Lance to Shay. Nyma had totally seduced him, getting him to take off with her in Blue to the other side of the moon. Keith will never let him live down being tied to a space tree. Things turned out okay in the end at least.

_One day,_ that girl said. 

Who set him up? Who would betray him like this? There’s always Thorak, but Lance has thoroughly looked him over since the bounty came to light. Thorak had a cute little boyfriend a quarter his size, but that was about it. Most of his old crew didn’t have anyone, which was another reason they went along with Lance. 

None of them had much to lose if they died in a risky move.

Perhaps, if he checked the ship logs of the Mermaid’s shuttle pods, and the emergency surveillance, he could pin down his betrayer? Pidge would have to help with that, she’s good at accessing information silently like that. Not that she stays quiet when she hacks into Galra databases, what with the laughing Pidge face. Got to admit, he would love to see the look on the Galra’s faces when they see the laughing Pidge face.

Wait, maybe they could also hack into the Resistance’s databases? They have a tendency to hide information from Lance, so maybe they actually have information on the Holt brother and father’s whereabouts? _Hey that could actually work._ And if not their whereabouts now, maybe something that could lead to their whereabouts. 

He’d have to group up with the team though first. 

Another set of bells went off, making the pounding in his eyes spread to the back of his neck so his entire head felt heavy. When the pounding became a drone, Lance stood up front the floor with a shiver and dusted off his pants, then he started walking.

_Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa man, I swear I didn't mean for my posting to take so long on this story. I've just been more focused of Operation: Voltron, and then this past month has been kicking me in the behind from here to Pluto(love you Pluto!) and back again. But I'm back and better than ever! Hopefully.... Anyways! Let me know what you guys think, and how you feel about the story as a whole! 
> 
> And fyi: I totally never meant for this to blow up as much as it did. BNB and O:V were completely self indulging fics. I still can't believe so many people actually like this stuff. I'm totally writing all of this out the backside (I don't want to cuss in my notes section lol).


	38. Matt and Te-osh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance, Hunk and Pidge devise a late night plan to locate Matt.

Lance has _really_ got to stop waking up in the healing pods. 

And yes, _that_ was his first thought as gravity took hold. His knees buckled with his own weight and he lurched forward, but strong arms surrounded him instead of pillows and blankets. Lance didn’t even tense as he melted into Hunk’s embrace. 

“Hey buddy.” Lance said, although his words were muffled by the orange shirt and the soft but firm muscle of Hunk’s shoulder. He didn’t even get through that greeting before Hunk was babbling nonstop. A mix between chastization and worry and relief. 

Lance fumbled for a moment before bringing up his arms in a returning hug. 

He could say this at least, healing pods even heal lack of sleep. Lance hasn’t felt this refreshed in weeks. An involuntary yawn escaped him as Hunk finally set him down, and Lance realized the two of them were alone, and the lights were dimmed to sleep mode. He stretched lazily as he made for the kitchen, the healing pod making him starving.

“What happened? Last I remember was walking, lost, through the crystal hallways. How did you guys find me?” Lance asked as they walked slowly. Hunk yawned before answering, and Lance caught the glare sent his way out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled as he realized Hunk was pouting because Lance started the yawn chain.

“Honestly, they aren’t ‘crystal’ people. Didn’t you listen to Allura when we were going planetside?” Hunk scolded, because apparently that was the top priority in the conversation. Lance shrugged as Hunk continued, obviously knowing Lance’s negative answer. “You were passed out in the middle of one of the deserted halls of the caves. How you got so deep into them, I couldn’t tell you. Maybe you could tell me though?” Hunk said, drifting off and leaving his question open ended.

“A little crystal girl dragged me away from the party, and only asked a question before darting off at the sound of bells. Tried following her but I lost sight for a moment and then I was alone.” Lance said casually as they came up to the kitchen doors, waiting as they _wooshed_ open with a hiss and revealed a table already occupied. 

Pidge sat hunched in her usual setting, glaring at her computer blearily, not even typing anything, just glaring.

“Oh, Pidge. Didn’t know you were still up. What’s up?” Hunk asked, seemingly disregarding the conversation for a moment. Lance followed Hunk to stand behind the computer gremlin, looking at a screen. It was a video, paused on an explosion, grainy but untarnished. 

The location was obviously a Galra prisoner base.

The types of bases were usually distinguishable by minute details that are different. Mainly in the marking on the sentries, which were flying through the air from the explosive force behind them. Hardly noticeable to the naked eye, but well, he didn’t have an enhanced super weapon eye that is a lot sharper than the average alien’s for nothing.

Plus, there were people fleeing wearing prisoner garb, guided by, what looked like, people in bug masks? 

In the middle of the frame was someone who looked suspiciously familiar. Strawberry blonde hair, wild and sticking up in clumpy points, a sharp face, a thin frame. They looked to be coughing into their hands with their eyes squeezed shut from the smoke. Lance squinted before looking at Pidge, who was venting at Hunk. He took a double take when he looked at Pidge and then back to screen. 

Holy hell, was that Matthias Holt, brother of the infamous Pidge, Green Paladin of Voltron and resident sass master?

Lance looked back at Pidge and Hunk who were staring at him with a deadpan look. Oh, did he say that out loud? Whoops. Pidge shook her head with an eye roll before pushing her glasses back onto her face from where they dislodged all crooked. She pressed a button and the video rewound before playing. The sound of an explosion accompanied the sight, and the clattering of the sentries matched up with their crumpled form. The video stopped after a few seconds on Matt’s face.

“I got this off one of the battle cruisers Keith and I infiltrated during the fight yesterday. It was pretty damaged, seeing as I had to disconnect early, but I got this frame at least. I was trying to analyze the sound of the explosion, see what makes it, but nothing in the Altean records match up.” Pidge said, her tone naturally slipping into a tired version of her battle mode. She always got very clinical and precise in her words when in the heat of battle, and with no emotional inflection either. She zoomed in one of the masked people, drawing their image to the side of the video. 

Pidge muted the video but put it on repeat, and kept talking.

“Now I’m trying to figure out who this is and where they're from. But the screen started blurring a few minutes ago and I’m waiting for my eyes to stop being stubborn.” She huffed, losing that clinical tone to replace it with frustration. She rubbed her eyes, looking everything like the child she still was as she yawned, which set of a chain reaction in Hunk and Lance at the same time.

Lance turned back to the screen to look at the familiar figure. 

They weren’t human, obviously. The only humans who seemed to be in space alive right now were the Paladins and Pidge’s family. All the other prisoners had probably long since died, and the smugglers wouldn’t wish to revisit the same planet. Not when humans were no longer ‘never before seen’. Lance had just been one of the unlucky out of billions to have been sold as a slave to the empire’s most disgusting. 

A shudder runs down his spine and he leans over to try to zoom in more. 

Despite Pidge’s cry of indignation from him touching her computer, he still zoomed closer, but the image distorted into a blur of pixels. Honestly, with how advanced alien tech was, they couldn’t make better cameras? Lance blinked and switched to his Galra eye, causing the picture to sharpen into full clarity, as if he was looking at them in person. 

He squints hard, thinking, _knowing,_ he recognises the Resistance squad who chose to wear masks on missions. 

“Lance?” Hunk asks. Lance hums noncommittally as he tries to remember the name, then starts forming words and names with his mouth. He knows this particular female has a name that starts with a ‘t’ so he goes down the list he can remember by heart. _God,_ this was why ECD’s were so important.

_Talikon._

_Torinek._

_Thorak._

_Thravlin._

_Trovar._

_Ta-akaniko._

_Te-osh._

_Te-osh, that’s it!_

Lance whips his head to Pidge, and smiles, blinking away the supersight of his gaira eye before he could see every acne scar marring her skin. “Pidge! I know who that is!” Pidge’s eyes widen and she turns her chair to face him head on, nearly leaping out of the chair. All tiredness was wiped away as she clutched at the chair tightly.

“It’s Te-osh, another resistance fighter!” Lance continued. “We met one time at a space bar and hit it off, but it didn’t go anywhere so we parted ways when duties called. She saved Matt!” 

Pidge smiled brightly, before a cloud covered her face and her expression dropped into a frown. Lance stumbled a moment at the abrupt change, shocked she wasn’t as happy about this as Lance was. She soon rectified it when she pointed at the time stamp, written in Galra. 

“The time stamp Lance. It says this was months ago. They could be anywhere or they could be dead. I was just looking for something, but none of this will help me in my search.” Pidge said, her voice solemn. lance frowned, looking between her, the computer and Hunk, who looked sad too. Worried as well, but when wasn’t he.

Lance cocked his head in confusion. 

“Why not just look through the Resistance files?” He asked. Pidge glanced up, hope beginning to light up her eyes. 

“You think they would give us her whereabouts? Or Matt’s?” Pidge asked. Lance shook his head, knowing they wouldn’t dare to give Lance more information than he already has. They don’t exactly trust him very much considering how highly he ranked.

“Not a bit,” He said, making Pidge deflate again. Man, she must really be tired not to think of this first. “But I know a damn good hacker, who happens to be in this very room. Here’s a hint, it’s not Hunk, and it’s not me.” Pidge froze a minute before a smirk lit up her face.

“You saying what I think you are?” She asked. 

“Of course not, I haven’t said a word.” Lance said, feigning being appalled with a hand dramatically against his chest. 

“Shiro would kill me if I even _thought_ about suggesting we convince Allura to stop at a Resistance base and sneak you into a data room to download everything you can off their servers without getting caught while I pretend to go restock my already bursting to full ammo storage.” Lance said as he walked to the goo dispenser. He squeezed some directly into his mouth and swallowed before pointing the nozzle at them accusingly. 

“That is absurd, and I forbid you to do such a thing.” Lance said, doing his best Shiro voice. Hunk and Pidge shared evil smirks, before dissolving into giggles at Lance’s idiocracy.


	39. NOT A CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update on what's going on

Hey guys! 

I know I haven't updated in quite a while for this story, but I just wanted to let you guys know, this story is under heavy editing, so it may be a little while before I come back to it. And when I do, I would suggest rereading, because things are going to be a lot better. 

Some editing I will be doing includes: splitting chapters into multiple parts, combining others, grammar and punctuation, plot spacing (or rather actually _**having**_ a plot more like) as well as adding some things if needed. 

So like, yeah. 

I wrote this as a completely self serving fic, so when it blew up I felt bad because I didn't put my best foot forward in writing. So that's what I'm doing now. Sorry if you got excited when you saw an update, I know it sucks. 

But hey! Now the story will be even better! See you guys soon!


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